Lib. 


^A/£-'>.  % 


SIR    JOHN    FALSTAFF 


^^ 


Hootlovers  Ecfiiion 


V 

2^illian\Sl\al^spGarQ 


*ifl/*i^T^lr^rocruc^  iorxs, 

*>^otGs,  Glossary, 

Critical    ^on\rT\ervjts, 

ai\cf  c/^G^bvpcf  of  Siucfy 


T}\Q    Urvjver»si^y  Society 
New     York. 


Copyright,    1 90 1 

By 

THE    UNIVERSITY    SOCIETY 


The  Second  Part  of 
King   Henry  IV. 


COLLEGI 
LIBRARY 


Critical  Comments, 


I. 

Argument. 

I.  The  Earl  of  Northumberland  receives  news  of  his 
son  Hotspur's  defeat  and  death;  also  that  the  King  has 
despatched  against  him  an  army  under  the  conduct  of 
his  second  son,  P^rince  John  of  Lancaster,  and  the  Earl 
of  Westmoreland.  Though  in  feeble  health,  he  resolves 
to  resist.  Meantime  the  generalship  of  the  insurgent 
forces  devolves  upon  Scroop,  Archbishop  of  York. 

II.  Sir  John  Falstaff,  though  entrusted  with  a  com- 
mission for  levying  a  company  of  royal  troops,  cannot 
neglect  his  personal  interests  at  the  tavern.  He  runs 
up  an  account  with  the  Hostess  and  narrowly  escapes 
being  sued  for  the  debt.  He  is  found  in  the  tavern  by 
the  Prince  of  Wales,  who  has  just  returned  from  his  vic- 
torious engagement  at  Shrewsbury;  and  the  corpulent 
knight  is  summoned  to  forsake  his  cups  and  resume  his 
military  duties. 

III.  Falstaff's  recruiting  is  more  successful  for  his 
purse  than  for  the  army,  since  he  releases  able-bodied 
men  who  can  buy  themselves  out  of  service,  and  retains 
weak,  indifferent  fellows  who  hardly  serve  for  targets. 

The  King  grows  despondent  on  account  of  failing 
health  and  the  northern  insurrection.  He  cannot  be 
persuaded  but  that  the  rebels  will  menace  his  throne; 
and  he  bemoans  the  wars  which  prevent  his  crusade  to 
the  Holy  Land. 


Comments  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

IV.  The  insurgent  army  under  the  Archbishop  of 
York  faces  the  royal  forces  of  Prince  John  in  Gaultree 
Forest,  Yorkshire.  The  latter,  instead  of  hazarding  a 
general  engagement,  invites  the  rising  chieftains  to  a 
conference,  in  which  he  promises  redress  of  their  alleged 
grievances,  proclaims  peace,  and  urges  a  dispersion  of 
both  armies.  The  insurgents  take  him  at  his  word  and 
dismiss  their  forces;  whereupon  the  perfidious  prince, 
who  had  previously  given  secret  instructions  to  his  own 
army  to  fall  upon  the  scattered  insurgent  bands,  seizes 
on  the  persons  of  York  and  the  other  rebel  leaders  and 
condemns  them  to  be  executed  for  treason.  The  news 
of  the  discomfiture  of  the  insurgent  army  is  carried  to 
the  sick  King,  who,  however,  is  too  feeble  to  evince 
much  interest  in  the  tidings.  He  sinks  rapidly.  The 
Prince  of  Wales  is  summoned  from  his  tavern  circle  to 
attend  his  father,  whom  he  finds  in  a  stupor,  with  the 
crown  beside  him  on  the  pillow.  Believing  him  to  be 
dead,  the  Prince  removes  the  crown  to  another  room — 
and  thereby  incurs  the  bitter  reproaches  of  the  King, 
who  believes  his  son  desirous  of  his  death.  Prince 
Henry  justifies  his  conduct,  and  the  two  are  reconciled. 

V.  Shortly  afterwards  Henry  IV.  passes  away,  and 
the  Prince  of  Wales  is  crowned  Henry  V.  No  sooner 
does  he  assume  his  regal  dignities  than  he  dismisses  from 
his  society  Sir  John  Falstaff  and  his  convivial  crew,  and 
resolves  henceforth  to  prove  worthy  of  his  high  of^ce. 

McSpadden  :  Shakespearian  Synopses. 

II. 

Falstaff. 

A  man  w'ith  a  great  flow  of  animal  spirits  is  sometimes, 
especially  if  he  is  liable  to  sudden  bursts  of  this  exuber- 
ance, mistaken  to  be  under  the  influence  of  wine.  Fal- 
staff's  average  rate  of  mirth  is  so  high  that  wine  refuses 
to  contest  it.     The  blood  of  his  vein  can  afford  to  be 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Comments 

handicapped  against  the  blood  of  the  grape.  The  mon- 
strous quantities  of  sack  sink  through  the  porosities  of  his 
rotundity,  and  mildly  percolate  a  subterranean  world;  so 
that  his  abstinence  in  the  article  of  bread  is  a  very  nice 
instinct  that  balancing  bulk  enough  exists  already. 

Falstaff,  by  every  ordinary  law  of  human  nature, 
should  be  inebriated.  His  exemption  is  a  kind  of  athe- 
ism. But  he  prefers  to  have  his  own  vices  overdone 
in  the  persons  of  his  companions,  all  of  whom  seem  to 
have  anticipated  the  sanitary  argument  in  favor  of  the 
use  of  liquor  that  an  American  suggested:  "  If  water 
will  rot  a  cedar-post,  what  will  it  do  to  the  human 
stomach!"     .     .     . 

Sir  John  does  not  intend  to  be  readily  put  down.  In 
the  matter  of  arrest  at  Dame  Quickly's  suit  for  debt, 
how  airily  he  gives  the  Chief  Justice  tap  for  tap,  and 
urges  that  the  officers  are  hindering  him  from  going  on 
the  King's  errand!  He  is  hard  to  get  fairly  cooped  in  a 
corner;  most  invaluable  counsel  to  defend  a  ring,  big 
enough  to  break  through  the  most  carefully  woven  in- 
dictment. When  you  think  you  have  him  neatly  at  bay, 
the  bulky  culprit  floats  over  your  head  in  a  twinkling 
of  resource  and  is  gone:  it  is  done  so  cleverly  that  you 
have  not  the  heart  to  pursue  him  farther,  or,  if  you  do, 
it  is  only  for  the  sake  of  enjoying  an  encore  of  this 
trapeze-shifting  of  his  wit. 

It  is  comic  when  his  tone  of  protestation  that  he  will 
discharge  his  debt  to  Dame  Quickly  succeeds  in  taking 
in  her  who  has  been  so  often  deceived  before.  But 
one  weakness  is  always  too  strong  for  another;  so  he 
is  constantly  betrayed  into  expense  by  her,  and  that 
is  at  once  her  vice  and  its  reward.  "  I  owe  her  money; 
and  whether  she  be  damned  for  that  I  know  not." 

It  is  also  comic  that  his  vanity  prevents  him  from 
suspecting  himself  of  cowardice  and  evasion  of  duty; 
so  that  he  indulges  the  most  inflated  self-appreciation, 
and  no  misadventure  is  sharp  enough  to  prick  it. 
*'  Embowelled!     'Sblood,    'twas    time    to    counterfeit." 


Comments  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

And  his  fright  inspires  him  with  the  adage  dear  ever 
since  to  shirkers,  "  The  better  part  of  valor  is  discre- 
tion " ;  and  it  has  a  sensible  purport  which  blinds  him  to 
his  own  disgrace.  ''  There  is  not  a  dangerous  action," 
complains  he  to  the  Chief  Justice,  "  but  I  am  thrust  upon 
it.  Well,  I  cannot  last  ever.  But  it  was  always  yet  the 
trick  of  our  English  nation,  if  they  have  a  good  thing, 
to  make  it  too  common.  I  would  to  God,  my  name  were 
not  so  terrible  to  the  enemy  as  it  is."  Does  he  really 
think  his  bullying  style  is  a  perpetual  action  of  bravery, 
or  is  he  delighting  to  be  ironical  upon  himself? 

Now  Falstaff's  mind  has  many  a  talent  which  liber- 
ates it  from  the  grossness  of  his  body.  His  wit  shows 
a  nimble  foot  of  fancy.  His  common  sense  is  an  acute 
ally  of  his  cowardice.  The  imagination  which  betrays 
him  into  the  largeness  of  his  lying  goes  into  the  felicity 
of  his  wit:  both  are  on  an  ample  scale.  He  rallies  Bar- 
dolpli  for  his  complexion,  and  overwhelms  his  ragged 
company  with  comparisons,  just  as  his  men  in  buckram 
grow  in  number.  When  his  fancy  seizes  an  opportunity 
he  cannot  let  it  go,  but  unconsciously  shifts  it  into  all 
possible  lights,  and  exhausts  invention  to  make  the  point 
emphatic.  How  many  imaginative  people  there  are  who 
unconsciously  lie  in  the  same  way. 

Weiss:   IF/V,  Humor,  and  Shakspearc. 


Alike  the  same  incongruous,  identical  Falstaff,  whether 
to  the  grave  Chief  Justice  he  vainly  talks  of  his  youth 
and  ofifers  to  caper  for  a  thousand,  or  cries  to  ]\lrs.  Doll, 
"  I  am  old!  I  am  old!  "  although  she  is  seated  on  his 
lap,  and  he  is  courting  her  for  busses.  .  .  .  There 
is  no  such  thing  as  totally  demolishing  Falstaff;  he  has 
so  much  of  the  invulnerable  in  his  frame  that  no  ridicule 
can  destroy  him;  he  is  safe  even  in  defeat,  and  seems 
to  rise,  like  another  Ant?eus,  with  recruited  vigour  at 
every  fall. 
MoRGANN  :  The  Dramatic  Character  of  Sir  John  FahtaW. 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Comments 

III. 
Falstaff  and  Panurge  Compared. 

It  is  certain,  of  course,  that  neither  Calderon  nor 
Moliere  knew  anything  of  Shakespeare  or  of  Falstaff; 
and  Shakespeare,  for  his  part,  was  equally  uninfluenced 
by  any  of  his  predecessors  on  the  comic  stage,  when  he 
conceived  his  fat  knight. 

Nevertheless,  there  is  among  Shakespeare's  predeces 
sors  a  great  writer,  one  of  the  greatest,  with  whom  we 
cannot  but  compare  him;  to  wit,  Rabelais,  the  master 
spirit  of  the  early  Renaissance  in  France.  He  is,  more 
over,  one  of  the  few  great  writers  with  whom  Shake- 
speare is  known  to  have  been  acquainted.  He  alludes 
to  him  in  As  You  Like  It  (III.  ii.),  where  Celia  says,  when 
Rosalind  asks  her  a  dozen  questions  and  bids  her  answer 
in  one  word :  "  You  must  borrow  me  Gargantua's 
mouth  first:  'tis  a  word  too  great  for  any  mouth  of  this 
age's  size." 

If  we  compare  Falstaff  with  Panurge,  we  see  that 
Rabelais  stands  to  Shakespeare  in  the  relation  of  a  Titan 
to  an  Olympian  god.  Rabelais  is  gigantic,  dispropor- 
tioned,  potent,  but  formless.  Shakespeare  is  smaller 
and  less  excessive,  poorer  in  ideas,  though  richer  in 
fancies,  and  moulded  with  the  utmost  firmness  of  out- 
line. 

Rabelais  died  at  the  age  of  seventy,  ten  years  before 
Shakespeare  was  born;  there  is  between  them  all  the 
difference  between  the  morning  and  the  noon  of  the 
Renaissance.  Rabelais  is  a  poet,  philosopher,  polemist, 
reformer,  "  even  to  the  very  fire  exclusively,"  but  al- 
ways threatened  with  the  stake.  Shakespeare's  coarse- 
ness compared  with  Rabelais's  is  as  a  manure-bed  com- 
pared with  the  Cloaca  Maxima.  Burlesque  uncleanness 
pours  in  floods  from  the  Frenchman's  pen. 

His  Panurge  is  larger  than  Falstaff,  as  Utgard-Loki  15 


Comments  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

larger  than  Asa-Loki.  Panurge,  like  Falstaff,  is  loqua- 
cious, witty,  crafty,  and  utterly  unscrupulous,  a  humour- 
ist who  stops  the  mouths  of  all  around  him  by  unblush- 
ing effrontery.  In  war,  Panurge  is  not  more  of  a  hero 
than  Falstaff,  but,  like  Falstaff,  he  stabs  the  foemen  who 
have  already  fallen.  He  is  superstitious,  yet  his  buf- 
foonery holds  nothing  sacred,  and  he  steals  from  the 
church-plate.  He  is  thoroughly  selfish,  sensual,  and 
slothful,  shameless,  revengeful,  and  light-fingered,  and 
as  time  goes  on  becomes  ever  a  greater  poltroon  and 
braggart. 

Pantagruel  is  the  noble  knight,  a  king's  son,  like 
Prince  Henry.  Like  the  Prince,  he  has  one  foible:  he 
cannot  resist  the  attractions  of  low  company.  When 
Panurge  is  witty,  Pantagruel  cannot  deny  himself  th'- 
pleasure  of  laughing  at  his  side-splitting  drolleries. 

But  Panurge,  unlike  Falstaff,  is  a  satire  on  the  largest 
scale.  In  representing  him  as  a  notable  economist  or 
master  of  finance,  wlio  calls  borrowing  credit-creating, 
and  has  63  methods  of  raising  money  and  214  methods 
of  spending  it,  Rabelais  made  him  an  abstract  and  brief 
chronicle  of  the  French  court  of  his  day.  In  giving  him 
a  yearly  revenue  from  his  barony  of  "  6,789,106,789 
royaulx  en  deniers  certain,"  to  say  nothing  of  the  fluc- 
tuating revenue  of  the  locusts  and  periwinkles,  "  montant 
bon  an  mal  an  de  2,435,768  a  2,435,769  moutons  a  la 
grande  laine,"  Rabelais  was  aiming  his  satire  direct  at  the 
unblushing  extortion  which  was  at  that  time  the  glory  and 
delight  of  the  French  feudal  nobility. 

Shakespeare  does  not  venture  so  far  in  the  direction 
of  satire.  He  is  only  a  poet,  and  as  a  poet  stands  sim- 
ply on  the  defensive.  The  only  power  he  can  be  said 
to  attack  is  Puritanism  {Twelfth  Night,  Measure  for 
Measure,  etc.),  and  that  only  in  self-defence.  His  at- 
tacks, too,  are  exceedingly  mild  in  comparison  with 
those  of  the  Cavalier  poets  before  the  victory  of  Puri- 
tanism and  after  the  reopening  of  the  theatres.  But 
Shakespeare  was  what  Rabelais  was  not,  an  artist;    and 

6 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Comments 

as   an   artist  he   was   a   very   Prometheus   in   his   power 
of  creating  human  beings. 

Brandes  :   WilliajH  Shakespeare. 

IV. 
Hostess  QuicKly. 

We  have  already  had  several  glimpses  of  Mrs.  Quickly, 
the  heroine  of  Eastcheap.  She  is  well  worth  a  steady 
and  attentive  looking  at.  One  of  the  most  character- 
istic passages  in  the  play  is  her  account  of  Falstaff's  debt 
to  her;  which  has  been  aptly  commented  on  by  Cole- 
*ridge  as  showing  how  her  mind  runs  altogether  in  the 
rut  of  actual  events ;  that  she  can  think  and  speak  of 
things  only  in  the  precise  order  of  their  occurrence; 
having  no  power  to  select  such  as  are  suited  to  her  pur- 
pose, and  detach  them  from  the  circumstantial  imperti- 
nences with  which  they  stand  associated  in  her  memory. 

In  strict  keeping  with  this  peculiarity  of  mind,  her 
character  throughout  savours  strongly  of  her  where- 
about in  life,  and  is  curiously  elemented  from  her  cir- 
cumstances: she  is  plentifully  trimmed  up  with  vices 
and  vulgarities,  and  they  all  taste  rankly  of  her  place 
and  calling,  thus  showing  that  she  has  as  much  of 
moral  as  of  intellectual  passiveness.  Notwithstanding, 
somehow  she  always  has  an  odour  of  womanhood  about 
her:  even  her  worst  features  are  such  as  none  but  a 
woman  could  have;  or  at  least  they  are  greatly  miti- 
gated in  her  case  by  their  marriage  wnth  a  woman's 
nature.  Nor  is  her  character,  with  all  its  ludicrous  and 
censurable  qualities,  unrelieved,  as  we  have  seen,  with 
touches  of  generosity  that  relish  equally  of  her  sex, 
though  not  so  much  of  her  situation.  It  is  even  ques- 
tionable whether  she  would  have  entertained  Sir  John's 
proposals  so  favourably,  but  'that  when  he  made  them 
he  was  in  a  condition  to  need  her  kindness ;  and  when 
her  "  exion  is  enter'd  "  against  him,  she  seems  to  move 


Comments  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

quite  as  much  from  affection  for  him  as  from  desire  of 
tlie  money.  And  who  but  a  woman  could  speak  such 
words  of  fluttering  eagerness  as  she  speaks  in  urging 
on  his  arrest :  "  Do  your  offices,  do  your  offices,  master 
Fang  and  master  Snare ;  do  me,  do  me,  do  me  your  of- 
fices " ;  where  her  very  rekictance  to  act  prompts  her 
to  the  greater  despatch,  and  her  heart  seems  palpitating 
with  anxious  hope  that  what  she  is  doing  will  make 
another  opportunity  for  her  kind  ministrations.  Some- 
times, indeed,  she  gets  wrought  up  to  a  pretty  high 
pitch  of  temper,  but  she  cannot  hold  herself  there;  and 
between  her  turns  of  anger  and  her  returns  to  the  oppo- 
site there  is  room  for  more  of  womanly  feeling  than 
we  shall  venture  to  describe.  And  there  is  still  more 
of  the  woman  in  the  cunning  simplicity — or  is  it  simple- 
nes6? — with  which  she  manages  to  keep  her  good  opin- 
ion of  Sir  John ;  as  when,  upon  being  told  that  at  his 
death  "  he  cried  out  of  women,  and  said  they  were  devils 
incarnate,"  she  repHes,  "  A'  never  could  abide  carnation*, 
'twas  a  colour  he  never  liked  " ;  as  if  she  could  nowise 
understand  his  words  but  in  such  a  sense  as  would  stand 
smooth  with  her  interest  and  her  affection. 

It  is  curious  to  observe  how  Mrs.  Quickly  dwells 
on  the  confines  of  virtue  and  shame,  and  sometimes  plays 
over  the  borders,  ever  clinging  to  the  reputation  and 
perhaps  to  the  consciousness  of  the  one,  without  fore- 
closing the  invitations  to  the  other.  Nor  may  we  dis- 
miss her  without  remarking  how  in  her  w^orst  doings 
she  apparently  hides  from  herself  their  ill  favour  under 
a  fair  name;  as  people  often  paint  the  cheeks  of  their 
vices,  and  then  look  them  sweetly  in  the  face,  though 
they  cannot  but  know  the  paint  is  all  that  keeps  them 
from  being  unsightly  and  loathsome.  In  her  case,  how- 
ever, this  may  spring  in  part  from  a  simplicity  not  unlike 
that  which  sometimes  makes  children  shut  their  eyes 
at  what  affrights  them,  and  then  think  themselves  safe. 
Upon  the  whole,  Mrs.  Quickly  must  be  set  down  as 
one  of  the  wicked;    the  Poet  evidently  meant  her  so: 

8 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Comments 

and  in  mixing  so  much  of  good  with  the  general  prepon- 
derance of  bad  in  her  character,  he  has  shown  a  rare 
spirit  of  wisdom,  such  as  may  well  remind  us  that  "  both 
good  men  and  bad  men  are  apt  to  be  less  so  than  they 
seem." 

Hudson  :  The  Works  of  Shakespeare. 

V. 
Shallow  and  Silence. 

After  Falstafif,  the  most  perfect  characters  in  the  play 
are  Shallow  and  Silence,  the  Gloucestershire  justices. 
Here  again  we  have  Shakespeare's  astonishing  power  in 
individuality-portraiture.  It  is  impossible  to  conceive  a 
stronger  contrast,  a  more  direct  antipodes  in  mental 
structure  than  he  has  achieved  between  FalstafT  and 
Shallow  ;  the  one  all  intellect,  all  acuteness  of  perception 
and  fancy,  and  the  other,  the  justice,  a  mere  compound  of 
fatuity,  a  caput  mortiiiiin  of  understanding.  Not  only  is 
Shallow  distinguished  by  his  eternal  babble,  talking  "  in- 
finite nothings  "  ;  but  with  the  flabby  vivacity,  the  idiotic 
restlessness,  that  not  unfrequently  accompany  this  class 
of  mind  (if  such  a  being  may  be  said  to  possess  mind 
at  all),  he  not  only  tattles  on — "  whirr,  whirr,  whirr,"  like 
a  ventilator,  but  he  fills  up  the  chinks  in  his  sentences 
with  repetitions,  as  blacksmiths  continue  to  tap  the  anvil 
in  the  intervals  of  turning  the  iron  upon  it.  But  Shake- 
speare has  presented  us  with  a  still  stronger  quality  of  as- 
sociation in  minds  of  Shallow's  calibre,  that  of  asking 
questions  everlastingly,  and  instantly  giving  evidence 
that  the  replies  have  not  sunk  even  skin-deep  with  t4iem, 
rushing  on  from  subject  to  subject,  and  returning  again 
to  those  that  have  been  dismissed.     .     .     . 

His  provincial  habit  of  life  is  also  indicated  by  his 
constant  recurrence  to  his  metropolitan  days — the  "  mad 
days  that  he  had  spent  at  Clement's  Inn."  The  idea  of 
Shallow  having  been  a  roysterer  at  any  period  of  his  life! 

9 


Comments  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

the  very  constitution  of  the  man's  mind  confutes  his 
boast,  without  the  testimony  of  Falstaff;  and  that  is  the 
finest  burlesque  portrait  that  ever  was  drawn : — 

"This  same  starved  justice  hath  done  nothing  but  prate  of  the 
wildness  of  his  youth,  and  the  feats  he  hath  done  about  Turnbull 
Street,  and  every  third  word  a  He,  duer  paid  to  the  hearer  than 
the  Turk's  tribute.  I  do  remember  him  at  Clement's  Inn,  Hke  a 
man  made  after  supper  of  a  cheese-paring.  When  he  was  naked, 
he  was  for  all  the  world  like  a  forked  radish,  with  a  head  fantas- 
tically carved  upon  it  with  a  knife.  He  was  so  forlorn  that  his 
dimensions  to  any  thick  sight  were  invisible :  he  was  the  very 
genius  of  famine ;  you  might  have  thrust  him  and  all  his  apparel 
into  an  eel-skin : — the  case  of  a  treble  hautboy  was  a  mansion  for 
him — a  court !  " 

There  is  no  point  in  which  Falstafif's  wit  glows  more 
brilliantly  than  in  that  remarkable  power  of  exaggeration, 
and  the  above  (a  portion  only  of  the  entire  portrait)  is 
a  confirmatory  specimen. 

Silence  is  an  embryo  of  a  man — a* molecule — a  gradua- 
tion from  nonentity  towards  intellectual  being — a  man 
dwelling  in  the  suburbs  of  sense,  groping  about  in  the 
twilight  of  apprehension  and  understanding.  He  is  the 
second  stage  in  the  "Vestiges";  he  has  just  emerged 
from  the  tadpole  state.  Here  again  a  distinction  is  pre- 
served between  these  two  characters.  Shallow  gabbles 
on  from  mere  emptiness;  while  Silence,  from  the  same 
incompetence,  rarely  gets  beyond  the  shortest  replies. 
The  firmament  of  his  wonder  and  adoration  are  the  say- 
ings and  doings  of  his  cousin  and  brother-justice  at 
Clement's  Inn,  and  which  he  has  been  in  the  constant 
habit  of  hearing,  without  satiety  and  nausea,  for  half  a 
century.  With  one  of  those  side-wind  indications  for 
which  Shakespeare  is  remarkable,  we  are  informed 
through  Silence  that  Shallow  has  ever  been  repeating  the 
stories  of  his  London  days : — 

Silence.  That  's  fifty-five  year  ago. 

Shallozv.  Ha,  cousin  Silence,  that  thou  hadst  seen  that  that  this 
knight  and  I  have  seen  ! — Ha,  Sir  John,  said  I  well  ? 

10 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Comments 

At  another  time  he  says,  as  though  Silence  had  been 
now  first  introduced  to  him,  "  I  was  once  of  Clement's 
Inn,  where  I  think  they  will  talk  of  '  mad  Shallow '  yet." 
Silence.  You  were  called  lusty  Shallow  then,  cousin. 

Like  a  provincial-bred  man,  also,  Silence  thinks  no  he- 
roes can  be  so  great  as  those  of  his  own  neighbourhood. 
When,  therefore,  Pistol,  in  announcing  the  death  of  the 
old  king,  says  to  Falstafif,  "  Sweet  knight,  thou  art  one 
of  the  greatest  men  in  the  realm,"  Silence  assents  from 
politeness,  hut  with  a  reservation — "  By  'r  Lady,  I  think 
he  be,  but  Goodman  Puff  of  Barson."  Again,  when  thev 
are  all  at  dinner,  and  Silence  waxes  drunk,  he  suddenly 
falls  to  singing,  so  that  Falstaff  says,  "  I  did  not  think 
Master  Silence  had  been  a  man  of  this  mettle." 
Silence.  Who,  I !    I  have  been  merry  twice  and  once,  ere  now. 

It  is  noticeable,  too.  that  even  this  scene  of  conviviality 
does  not  draw  him  out  to  the  achievement  of  an  entire 
song;  but  he  trolls  out  odds  and  ends,  which  he  asso- 
ciates with  the  last  words  he  hears  in  the  conversation. 
Shallow  says,  "  Be  merry,  Master  Bardolph :  [and  to 
Falstaff's  page]  my  little  soldier  there,  be  merry." 
Silence.   [Sings]  Be  merry,  be  merry,  my  wife  has  all. 

Charles  Cowden  Clarke  :  Shakespeare  Characters, 

VI. 

Prince  Henry. 

For  Prince  Hal :  we  have  one  unworthy  scene,  two 
worthy  ones.  The  shadow  of  his  father's  death-sick- 
ness is  on  him,  and  he  goes  for  relief — half  disgusted 
with  himself — (feeling  that  every  one  would  call  him  a 
hypocrite  if  he  looked  sorry)  to  his  old,  loose  compan- 
ions. But  there's  not  much  enjoyment  in  his  forced 
mirth.  He  feels  ashamed  of  himself,  and  soon  leaves 
Falstaff  and  his  old  life  forever — ''  let  the  end  try  the 
man,"  as  he  says.  It  is  clear  that  he  now  feels  the  degra- 
dation  of   being  Falstaff's   friend   and   Poins's   reputed 

II 


Comments  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

brother-in-law.  On  hearing  of  the  war  again,  as  in 
Part  I.,  he  changes  at  a  touch,  and  is  himself.  The  next 
time  we  see  him  is  by  his  father's  sick  bed,  and  again  he 
wins  to  him  his  father's  l-^eart.  But  surely  by  a  bit  of 
Falstaff-like  cleverness  and  want  of  truth.  Compare 
his  first  speech  to  the  crow^n  with  his  second  giving  an 
account  of  it  to  his  father.  But  one  part  of  that  first 
speech  he  meant:  that  he  'd  hold  his  crown  against  the 
world's  whole  strength;  and  that  was  what  King  Henry 
wanted.  When  Hal  becomes  king,  his  treatment  of  his 
brothers,  the  Chief  Justice,  and  Falstaff  is  surely  wise 
and  right,  in  all  three  cases.  One  does  feel  for  Falstaff; 
but  certainly  what  he  ought  to  have  had  he  got — the 
chance  of  reformation.  What  other  reception  could 
Henry,  in  the  midst  of  his  new  state,  give  in  public  to 
the  diity,  slovenly,  debauched  old  sinner  who  thrust 
himself  upon  him,  than  the  rebuke  he  did?  Any  other 
course  would  have  rendered  the  King's  own  professed 
reform  absurd. 

FuRNivALL :  The  Leopold  Shakspere. 

VII. 

King  Henry. 

The  person  of  the  Prince  is  brought  so  much  into  the 
foreground  in  Henry  IV.  that  the  unity,  which  arises 
bv  concentrating  the  interest  in  the  chief  figure,  is  dis- 
turbed; we  do  not  know  whether  the  father  or  the  son 
is  to  be  considred  the  hero  of  the  play.  But  apart  from 
the  inner  necessity  of  pointing  out,  in  the  drama,  the 
goal  towards  which  the  course  of  events  is  tending,  this 
very  division  of  the  personal  interest  belongs  to  the 
character  of  the  times  represented,  to  the  character  of 
the  reign  of  Henry  IV.,  nay,  to  the  very  character  of 
King  Henry  himself.  A  person  like  him  is  incapable 
of  drawing  all  interest  upon  himself:  all  his  actions,  his 
inmost  being  is  divided  in  itself.     He  is  one  of  those 

12 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Comments 

characters  who  can  excite  interest  only  by  their  close 
connection  with  other  entirely  different  natures;  it  is 
only  when  contrasted  with  characters  such  as  Richard 
11.  or  Henry  Percy  and  his  own  son,  who  is  so  unlike 
himself,  that  his  nature  acquires  light  and  significance 
enough  for  us  to  take  an  interest  in  him.  .  .  .  He 
becomes  more  and  more  gloomy;  he  lives  without 
having  any  pleasure  in  life  on  account  of  his  increasing 
trouble  about  establishing  his  royal  power,  and  the  op- 
pressive anxiety  about  the  strange  doings  of  his  ap- 
parently degenerate  son.  He  dies  in  the  feeling  of 
having  striven  and  struggled  in  vain  to  obliterate  the 
wrong  that  is  attached  to  his  throne. 

Yet  he  dies  in  the  proud,  outward  possession  of  his 
sovereignty;  his  rebellious  barons  have  not  succeeded 
in  lessening  his  power  in  the  slightest  degree. 

Ulrici  :  Shakspeare's  Dramatic  Art. 


VIII. 

"Disreputable  but  Immortal." 

What  are  the  exaggerated  tragical  trappings  with 
which  Pistol  flourishes  over  his  vileness  but  the  badges 
of  a  masquerade  that  in  principle  at  least  is  a  parallel 
to  that  of  the  King.  An  attempt  more  modest  but  hap- 
pier on  the  whole  is  the  vapouring  of  Lieutenant  Bar- 
dolph,  swearing  "by  Heaven,"  and  adventuring  an  at- 
tempt at  camp  slang  and  the  air  of  a  soldier  where  he 
is  not  known.  Justice  Shallow  for  his  part  dresses  up  a 
fictitious  image  of  the  wildness  of  his  youth  and  puts  up 
a  pretension  to  dissoluteness  and  violence  which  his  will 
may  have  been  equal  to  but  his  power  never,  and  even 
Silence  would  fain  assert  a  toper's  glory  which  neither 
his  head  nor  his  spirits  are  capable  of.  I  may  pass 
over  the  smoothpated  eidolon,  Master  Dumbleton,  who 
could  bear  a  gentleman  in   hand  and  then  stand  upon 

13     • 


Comments  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

security,  but  who  can  pass  over  the  ever  persevering 
and  ever  self-betraying  seemHness  of  Hostess  Quickly? 
In  her  care  to  keep  up  appearances  as  a  principle  of  her 
profession  as  ostensible  tavern-keeper,  in  her  sober  man- 
nered anxiety  to  conserve  the  seemly  for  herself  as  for 
all  about  her,  she  is  forever  falling  into  unhappinesses 
of  expression  that  suggest  the  state  of  the  fact  even  to 
those  who  would  forget  it,  commits  herself  coolly  to  the 
plumpest  asseverations  of  overdone  lies,  or  in  all  sim- 
plicity and  pure  intent  to  dsiclaim  her  true  character  and 
calling,  admits  and  publishes  it  in  absolute  terms.  The 
Page's  description  of  Mistress  Doll  Tearsheet  as  a  proper 
gentlewoman  and  a  kinswoman  of  his  master's,  evidently 
came  from  a  Mistress  Quickly  not  unrelated  to  the 
housekeeper  of  Dr.  Caius,  who  reserved  the  world's 
truth  for  old  folks  who  know  the  world  and  held  it  con- 
science still  to  put  off  children  with  a  nayword.  The 
well-intentioned  creature  would  be  a  hypocrite  if  she 
could,  and  indeed  she  seems  to  have  made  some  prog- 
ress in  making  a  first  dupe  of  herself;  but  here  it  is  like 
to  end,  for  more  than  good  will  is  required  in  the  mat- 
ter, and  infirm  dialectics  and  haphazard  haste  convict  her 
from  her  own  lips  by  inevitable  propensity,  and  leave  her 
no  chance  of  a  second.  Mrs.  Quickly  and  Doll  Tear- 
sheet  embody  between  them  the  moral,  if  we  may  so  speak, 
of  the  London  Police  reports  and  all  sheets  of  night 
charges  from  the  days  of  Queen  Elizabeth  to  the  Times 
newspaper  of  this  current  date. 

Lloyd:  Critical  Essays  on  the  Plays  of  Shakespeare. 

IX. 

The  Two  Parts  and  the  Whole. 

It  [2  Henry  IV.]  is  inferior  to  its  predecessor  [i 
Henry  /F.]  as  a  work  of  dramatic  art,  though,  in  my 
judgement,  not  at  all  so  as  a  work  of  genius.  ...  Its 
noble-r  characters   have  much   less   of  chivalric  and   ro- 

24 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Comments 

mantic  splendour,  and  its  action  less  oi  stage  interest 
and  effect,  and  its  poetry  far  less  of  kindling-  and  ex- 
citing fervour.  On  this  account  it  has  long  disappeared 
as  a  whole  from  the  stage;  but  portions  of  it  are  familiar 
even  to  those  whose  knowledge  of  Shakespeare  is  ac- 
quired only  from  the  stage,  having  been  interwoven  by 
Cibber,  or  some  other  manufacturer  of  the  "  acted 
drama,"  into  the  action  of  Richard  III.  Other  portions, 
like  the  King's  invocation  to  sleep,  the  Archbishop's 
meditation  on  the  instability  of  popular  favour.  Lady 
Percy's  lament  for  Hotspur,  and  the  last  scene  between- 
the  Prince  and  his  father,  have  sunk  deep  into  thousands 
of  hearts,  and  live  in  the  general  memory.  Nor  is  the 
entire  graver  dialogue  unworthy  of  these  gems  with 
which  it  is  studded;  for  it  is  throughout  rich  in  thought, 
noble  and  impressive  in  style,  and  the  characters  it  pre- 
sents are  drawn,  if  not  with  the  same  bold  freedom  and 
pointed  invention  as  in  the  first  part,  yet  with  undimin- 
ished truth  and  discrimination. 

But  on  the  comic  side  of  the  play  there  is  no  flagging 
either  of  spirit  or  invention.  On  the  contrary,  the 
humour,  if  perhaps  less  lively  and  sparkling,  is  still  more 
rich  and  copious.  It  overflows  on  all  sides.  The  return 
of  a  character  of  comic  invention  in  a  second  part  is  a 
hard  test  of  originality  and  fertility,  which  even  Don 
Quixote  and  Gil  Bias  did  not  stand  without  some  loss  of 
the  charm  of  our  first  acquaintance  with  them.  Falstaff  s 
humour,  as  well  that  which  he  exhibits  in  his  character 
as  that  which  he  utters,  is  more  copious,  more  luxuriously 
mirthful,  and — if  the  phrase  may  be  allowed — more 
unctuous  than  ever.  Those  of  his  companions,  whose  ac- 
quaintance we  made  in  the  first  part,  lose  nothing  of  their 
droll  effect;  and  our  new  acquaintances.  Shallow,  Silence, 
etc.,  are  still  more  amusing.  The  scenes  in  which  these 
last  figure  give  us  a  delightful  peep  into  the  habits  of  the 
rural  gentry  of  old  England,  and,  as  mere  history,  are 
worth  volumes  of  antiquarian  research. 

Verplanck  :  The  Illustrated  Shakespeare. 

IS 


Comments  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

None  of  Shakspeare's  plays  are  more  read  than  the 
first  and  second  parts  of  Henry  IV.  Perhaps  no  author 
has  ever,  in  two  plays,  afforded  so  much  delight.  The 
great  events  are  interesting,  for  the  fate  of  kingdoms  de- 
pends upon  them ;  the  slightest  occurrences  are  divert- 
ing, and,  except  one  or  two,  sufficiently  probable.  The  in- 
cidents are  multiplied  with  wonderful  fertility  of  inven- 
tion, and  the  characters  diversified  with  the  utmost  nicety 
of  discernment  and  the  profoundest  skill  in  the  nature  of 
man. 
Johnson:  General  Observations  on  Shakspeare's  Plays. 


The  second  part  of  Henry  n\  is  at  once  the  supple- 
ment and  epilogue  of  the  first  part,  and  the  preparation 
for  the  ensuing  dramatic  history  of  Henry  V.  We  may, 
I  think,  still  detect  some  traces  of  the  manner  in  which 
the  materials  for  the  history  of  Henry  IV.  developed  and 
expanded  in  the  Poet's  mind  until  they  became  not 
simply  too  bulky  for  a  single  play,  but  until  they  divided 
by  natural  polarity  into  distinct  groups  and  resulted  in 
the  double  birth  of  contrasted  but  still  closely  connected 
and  correlative  plays.  Thus,  in  the  second  play  we  find 
Falstaff  passing  through  Gloucestershire  by  some  incred- 
ible route  from  London  to  York,  a  divergence  far  too 
wide  to  be  accounted  for  by  his  having  to  take  up  soldiers 
in  counties  as  he  went.  The  incident  as  first  imagined 
came  in  no  doubt  in  the  earlier  sequence  of  events  when 
King  Henrv  despatching  forces  toward  Wales  tells  his 
son  "  and,  Harry,  you  shall  march  through  Gloucester- 
shire "  ;  a  natural  course  for  Falstaff  to  follow,  and  so  for 
both  to  encounter  in  the  Poet's  own  Warwickshire  on  the 
road  near  Coventry.  The  consistency  on  this  view  holds 
on  and  the  next  stage  is  indicated  towards  Sutton  Cold- 
field,  picturesque  municipality  still  lying  under  as  bright 
a  sky  as  of  old,  beside  the  beauty  and  privilege  of  its 
wide  pastoral  park,  though  the  smoke  and  clamours  of 
Birmingham  reach  the  very  edge  of  its  horizon.     Hence 

i6 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Comments 

we  cannot  doubt  that  the  tattered  troop  that  Falstaff 
sends  to  Coventry — thus  we  still  specify  a  dead  cut — 
comprised  in  the  Poet's  first  invention  Wart  and  his 
wardrobe,  to  the  process  of  whose  enlistment  the 
soliloquy  on  the  abuse  of  the  king's  press  applies  so  en- 
tirely, and  that  Shallow  and  his  household  were  already 
shaped  and  shadowed  forth,  though  afterwards  for  ample 
reasons  transferred  to  the  later  scene. 

Lloyd:  Critical  Essays  on  the  Plays  of  Shakespeare. 


The  political  movements  of  Henry  IV.'s  reign,  as  told 
by  Shakespeare's  standard  authorities,  Holinshed  and 
Hall,  offered  little  salient  matter  for  the  dramatist. 
Nevertheless  it  is  here  that  he  most  decisively  abandons 
the  boldly  reconstructive  methods  of  Marlowe;  here  that 
he  unfolds  with  most  consummate  power  his  own 
method,  of  creating  character  and  detail  within  the  limits 
of  a  general  fidelity  to  recorded  fact.  His  most  direct  di- 
vergences from  the  tale  of  the  chroniclers  amount  to 
little  more  than  compressions  of  isolated  and  scattered 
event.  But  he  supplements  their  tale  and  interprets  their 
silence  with  a  prodigal  magnificence  of  invention  unap- 
proached  in  the  other  Histories.  Hence  Henry  IV.  pre- 
sents analogies  to  the  group  of  brilliant  Comedies  with 
which  it  was  nearly  contemporary,  not  only  in  its  obvious 
wealth  of  comic  genius,  but  in  the  points  at  which  this  is 
exercised.  The  historic  matter,  like  the  serious  story  of 
Twelfth  Night  or  Much  Ado,  is  taken  over  without  sub- 
stantial change;  while  within  its  meshes  plays  a  lambent 
humour  which,  ostensibly  subordinate  and  by  the  way, 
in  reality  reveals  the  finer  significance  of  the  derived 
story  itself,  and  forms,  as  literature,  the  crowning  glory  of 
the  whole. 

Herford  :   The  Eversley  Shakespeare. 


17 


DRAMATIS   PERSONAE. 

Rumour,  the  Presenter. 
King  Henry  the  Fourth. 
Henry,  Prince  of  Wales,  "^ 

afterwards  King  Henry  V.,  \ 

Thomas,  Duke  of  Clarence,  ^  his  sons. 

Prince  John  of  Lancaster,  \ 

Prince  Humphrey  of  Gloucester,    J 
Earl  of  Warwick, 
Earl  of  Westmoreland. 
Earl  of  Surrey. 
Gower. 
Harcourt. 
Blunt. 

Lord  Chief-Justice  of  the  King's  Bench. 
A   Servant  of  the  Chief-Justice. 
Earl  of  Northumberland. 
Scroop,  Archbishop  of  York. 
Lord  Mowbray. 
Lord  Hastings. 
Lord  Bardolph. 
Sir  John  Colville, 

Travers  and  Morton,  retainers  of  Northumberland. 
Sir  John  Falstaff, 
His  Page. 
Bardolph. 
Pistol. 
Poins. 
^  Peto. 

iSttftALL'DW,  ,         •       ,• 

7,  '      country  justices. 

Silence, 

Davy,  servant  to  Shallow. 

Mouldy,  Shadow,  Wart,  Feeble,  and  Bullcalf,  recruits. 

Fang  and  Snare,  sheritf's  oiHccrs. 

Lady  Northumberland. 

Lady  Percy. 

Mistress  Quickly,  hostess  of  a  tavern  in  Eastcheap. 

Doll  Tearsheet. 

Lords  and  Attendants ;    Porter.   Drawers.   Beadles,   Grooms,   etc. 
A  Dancer,  speaker  of  the  Epilogue. 

Scene:  England. 
18 


The  Second  Part  of 
King   Henry  IV. 

INDUCTION. 

Warkivorth.     Before  the  castle. 

Enter  Rumour,  painted  full  of  tongues. 

Rum.  Open  your  ears;   for  which  of  you  will  stop 
The  vent  of  hearing  when  loud  Rumour  speaks? 
I,  from  the  orient  to  the  drooping  west, 
Making  the  wind  my  post-horse,  still  unfold 
The  acts  commenced  on  this  ball  of  earth: 
Upon  my  tongues  continual  slanders  ride, 
The  which  in  every  language  I  pronounce, 
Stufhng  the  ears  of  men  with  false  reports. 
I  speak  of  peace,  while  covert  enmity 
Under  the  smile  of  safety  wounds  the  world:         lo 
And  who  but  Rumour,  who  but  only  I, 
Make  fearful  musters  and  prepared  defence. 
Whiles  the  big  year,  swoln  with  some  other  grief, 
Is  thought  with  child  by  the  stern  tyrant  war. 
And  no  such  matter?    Rumour  is  a  pipe 
Blown  by  surmises,  jealousies,  conjectures, 
And  of  so  easy  and  so  plain  a  stop 
That  the  blunt  monster  with  uncounted  heads, 
The  still-discordant  wavering  multitude, 
Can  play  upon  it.     But  what  need  I  thus  20 

My  well-known  body  to  anatomize 

19 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Among  my  household?    Why  is  Rumour  here? 

I  run  before  King  Harry's  victory; 

Who  in  a  bloody  field  by  Shrewsbury 

Hath  beaten  down  young  Hotspur  and  his  troops, 

Quenching  the  flame  of  bold  rebellion 

Even  with  the  rebels'  blood.    But  what  mean  I 

To  speak  so  true  at  first?  my  ofiice  is 

To  noise  abroad  that  Harry  Monmouth  fell 

Under  the  wrath  of  noble  Hotspur's  sword,  30 

And  that  the  king  before  the  Douglas'  rage 

Stoop'd  his  anointed  head  as  low  as  death. 

This  have  I  rumour'd  through  the  peasant  towns 

Between  that  royal  field  of  Shrewsbury 

And  this  worm-eaten  hold  of  ragged  stone, 

Where  Hotspur's  father,  old  Northumberland, 

Lies  crafty-sick:   the  posts  come  tiring  on, 

And  not  a  man  of  them  brings  other  news 

Than    they    have    learn'd    of    me:     from    Rumour's 

tongues 
They  bring  smooth  comforts  false,  worse  than  true 

wrongs.  [Exit.     40 

ACT   FIRST. 

Scene  I. 

The  same. 
Enter  Lord  Bardolph. 
L.  Bard.  Who  keeps  the  gate  here,  ho? 
TJic  porter  opens  the  gate. 

Where  is  the  earl? 
Port.  What  shall  I  say  you  are? 
L.  Bard.  Tell  thou  the  earl 

20 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

That  the  Lord  Bardolph  doth  attend  him  here. 
Port.  His  lordship  is  walk'd  forth  into  the  orchard: 
Please  it  your  honour,  knock  but  at  the  gate, 
And  he  himself  will  answer. 

Enter  Northumberland. 

L.  Bard.  Here  comes  the  earl. 

[Exit  Porter. 

North.  What  news,  Lord  Bardolph?  every  minute  now 
Should  be  the  father  of  some  stratagem: 
The  times  are  wild;   contention,  like  a  horse 
Full  of  high  feeding,  madly  hath  broke  loose,  lo 

And  bears  down  all  before  him. 

L.  Bard.  Noble  earl, 

I  bring  you  certain  news  from  Shrewsbury. 

North.  Good,  an  God  will! 

L.  Bard.  As  good  as  heart  can  wish: 

The  king  is  almost  wounded  to  the  death; 
And,  in  the  fortune  of  m.j  lord  your  son, 
Prince  Harry  slain  outright;   and  both  the  Blunts 
Kill'd  by  the  hand  of  Douglas;   young  Prince  John 
And  Westmoreland  and  Stafford  fled  the  field; 
And  Harry  Monmouth's  brawn,  the  hulk  Sir  John, 
Is  prisoner  to  your  son:   O,  such  a  day,  20 

So  fought,  so  follow'd  and  so  fairly  won, 
Came  not  till  now  to  dignify  the  times. 
Since  Caesar's  fortunes! 

North.  How  is  this  derived? 

Saw  you  the  field?  came  you  from  Shrewsbury? 

L.  Bard.  I   spake  with  one,  my  lord,  that  came  from 
thence, 
A  gentleman  well  bred  and  of  good  name, 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

That  freely  render'd  me  these  news  for  true. 
North.  Here  comes  my  servant  Travers,  whom  I  sent 
On  Tuesday  last  to  listen  after  news. 

Enter  Travers. 

L.  Bard.  My  lord,  I  over-rode  him  on  the  way  :  30 

And  he  is  furnish'd  with  no  certainties 
More  than  he  haply  may  retail  from  me. 

North.  Now,  Travers,  what  good  tidings  comes  with  you? 

Tra.  My  lord,  Sir  John  Umfrevile  turn'd  me  back 
With  joyful  tidings;   and,  being  better  horsed, 
Out-rode  me.    After  him  came  spurring  hard 
A  gentleman,  almost  forspent  with  speed. 
That  stopp'd  by  me  to  breathe  his  bloodied  horse. 
He  ask'd  the  way  to  Chester;   and  of  him 
I  did  demand  what  news  from  Shrewsbury:  40 

He  told  me  that  rebellion  had  bad  luck, 
And  that  young  Harry  Percy's  spur  was  cold. 
With  that,  he  gave  his  able  horse  the  head. 
And  bending  forward  struck  his  armed  heels 
Against  the  panting  sides  of  his  poor  jade 
Up  to  the  rowel-head,  and  starting  so 
He  seem'd  in  running  to  devour  the  way, 
Staying  no  longer  question. 

North.  Ha!     Again: 

Said  he  young  Harry  Percy's  spur  was  cold? 

Of  Hotspur  Coldspur?  that  rebellion  50 

Had  met  ill  luck? 

L.  Bard.  My  lord,  I  '11  tell  you  what; 

If  my  young  lord  your  son  have  not  the  day, 
Upon  mine  honour,  for  a  silken  point 
I  '11  give  my  barony :  never  talk  of  it. 
22 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

North.  Why  should  that  gentleman  that  rode  by  Travers 
Give  them  such  instances  of  loss? 

L.  Bard.  Who,  he? 

He  was  some  hilding  fellow  that  had  stolen 
The  horse  he  rode  on,  and,  upon  my  life. 
Spoke  at  a  venture.     Look,  here  comes  more  news. 

Enter  Morton. 

North.  Yea,  this  man's  brow,  like  to  a  title-leaf,  60 

Foretells  the  nature  of  a  tragic  volume: 
So  looks  the  strond  whereon  the  imperious  flood 
Hath  left  a  witness'd  usurpation. 
Say,  IMorton,  didst  thou  come  from  Shrewsbury? 

Mor.  I  ran  from  Shrewsbury,  my  noble  lord; 
Where  hateful  death  put  on  his  ugliest  mask 
To  fright  our  party. 

North.  How  doth  my  son  and  brother? 

Thou  tremblest;   and  the  whiteness  in  thy  cheek 
Is  apter  than  thy  tongue  to  tell  thy  errand. 
Even  such  a  man,  so  faint,  so  spiritless,  70 

So  dull,  so  dead  in  look,  so  woe-begone. 
Drew  Priam's  curtain  in  the  dead  of  night. 
And  would  have  told  him  half  his  Troy  was  burnt; 
But  Priam  found  the  fire  ere  he  his  tongue. 
And  I  my  Percy's  death  ere  thou  report'st  it. 
This   thou    wouldst   say,    '  Your   son    did   thus   and 

thus ; 
Your  brother  thus:    so  fought  the  noble  Douglas: ' 
Stopping  my  greedy  ear  with  their  bold  deeds : 
But  in  the  end,  to  stop  my  ear  indeed. 
Thou  hast  a  sigh  to  blow  away  this  praise.  80 

Ending  with  '  Brother,  son,  and  all  are  dead.' 

23 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Alor.  Douglas  is  living,  and  your  brother,  yet; 
But,  for  my  lord  your  son, — 

North.  Why,  he  is  dead. 

See  what  a  ready  tongue  suspicion  hath! 
He  that  but  fears  the  thing  he  would  not  know 
Hath  by  instinct  knowledge  from  others'  eyes 
That  what  he  fear'd  is  chanced.    Yet  speak,  Morton; 
Tell  thou  an  earl  his  divination  lies. 
And  I  will  take  it  as  a  sweet  disgrace. 
And  make  thee  rich  for  doing  me  such  wrong.      90 

Mor.  You  are  too  great  to  be  by  me  gainsaid: 
Your  spirit  is  too  true,  your  fears  too  certain. 

North.  Yet,  for  all  this,  say  not  that  Percy's  dead. 
I  see  a  strange  confession  in  thine  eye: 
Thou  shakest  thy  head,  and  hold'st  it  fear  or  sin 
To  speak  a  truth.     If  he  be  slain,  say  so ; 
The  tongue  offends  not  that  reports  his  death: 
And  he  doth  sin  that  doth  belie  the  dead. 
Not  he  which  says  the  dead  is  not  alive. 
Yet  the  first  bringer  of  unwelcome  news  100 

Hath  but  a  losing  office,  and  his  tongue 
Sounds  ever  after  as  a  sullen  bell, 
Remember'd  tolling  a  departing  friend. 

L.  Bard.  I  cannot  think,  my  lord,  your  son  is  dead. 

Alor.  I  am  sorry  I  should  force  you  to  believe 
That  which  I  would  to  God  I  had  not  seen; 
But  these  mine  eyes  saw  him  in  bloody  state, 
Rendering  faint  quittance,  wearied  and  outbreathed, 
To  Harry  Monmouth ;  whose  swift  wrath  beat  down 
The  never-daunted  Percy  to  the  earth,  no 

From  whence  with  life  he  never  more  sprung  up. 
In  few,  his  death,  whose  spirit  lent  a  fire 

24 


KiNb  HENRY  IV.  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

Even  to  the  dullest  peasant  in  his  camp, 

Being  bruited  once,  took  fire  and  heat  away 

From  the  best  temper'd  courage  in  his  troops; 

For  from  his  metal  was  his  party  st'eel'd; 

Which  once  in  him  abated,  all  the  rest 

Turn'd  on  themselves,  like  dull  and  heavy  lead: 

And  as  the  thing  that  's  heavy  in  itself, 

Upon  enforcement  flies  with  greatest  speed,  120 

So  did  our  men,  heavy  in  Hotspur's  loss, 

Lend  to  this  weight  such  lightness  with  their  fear 

That  arrows  fled  not  swifter  toward  their  aim 

Than  did  our  soldiers,  aiming  at  their  safety. 

Fly  from  the  field.    Then  was  that  noble  Worcester 

Too  soon  ta'en  prisoner;  and  that  furious  Scot, 

The  bloody  Douglas,  whose  well-labouring  sword 

Had  three  times  slain  the  appearance  of  the  king 

'Gan  vail  his  stomach  and  did  grace  the  shame 

Of  those  that  turn'd  their  backs,  and  in  his  flight,  130 

Stumbling  in  fear,  we  took.     The  sum  of  all 

Is  that  the  king  hath  won,  and  hath  sent  out 

A  speedy  power  to  encounter  you,  my  lord, 

Under  the  conduct  of  young  Lancaster 

And  Westmoreland.     This  is  the  news  at  full. 

North.  For  this  I  shall  have  time  enough  to  mourn. 
In  poison  there  is  physic ;    and  these  news, 
Having  been  well,  that  would  have  made  me  sick. 
Being  sick,  have  in  some  measure  made  me  well: 
And  as  the  wretch,  whose  fever-weaken'd  joints,  140 
Like  strengthless  hinges,  buckle  under  life, 
Impatient  of  his  fit,  breaks  like  a  fire 
Out  of  his  keeper's  arms,  even  so  my  limbs, 
Weaken'd  with  grief,  being  now  enraged  with  grief, 

25 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Are  thrice  themselves.     Hence,  therefore,  thou  nice 

crutcli ! 
A  scaly  gauntlet  now  with  joints  of  steel 
Must  glove  this  hand:   and  hence,  thou  sickly  quoif! 
Thou  are  a  guard  too  wanton  for  the  head 
Which  princes,  fiesh'd  with  conquest,  aim  to  hit. 
Now  bind  my  brows  with  iron  ;   and  approach       150 
The  ragged'st  hour  that  time  and  spite  dare  bring 
To  frown  upon  the  enraged  Northumberland! 
Let  heaven  kiss  earth!   now  let  not  Nature's  hand 
Keep  the  wild  flood  confined!   let  order  die! 
And  let  this  world  no  longer  be  a  stage 
To  feed  contention  in  a  lingering  act; 
But  let  one  spirit  of  the  first-born  Cain 
Reign  in  all  bosoms,  that,  each  heart  being  set 
On  bloody  courses,  the  rude  scene  may  end, 
And  darkness  be  the  burier  of  the  dead!  160 

Tra.  This  strained  passion  doth  you  wrong,  my  lord. 

L.  Bar-d.  Sweet    earl,    divorce    not    wisdom    from    your 
honour. 

Mor.  The  lives  of  all  your  loving  complices 

Lean  on  your  health ;  the  which,  if  you  give  o'er 
To  stormy  passion,  must  perforce  decay. 
You  cast  the  event  of  war,  my  noble  lord. 
And  summ'd  the  account  of  chance,  before  you  said 
'  Let  us  make  head.'    It  was  your  presurmise, 
That,  in  the  dole  of  blows,  your  son  might  drop: 
You  knew  he  walk'd  o'er  perils,  on  an  Q(\gt,  170 

More  likely  to  fall  in  than  to  get  o'er; 
You  were  advised  his  flesh  was  capable 
Of  wounds  and  scars,  and  that  his  forward  spirit 
Would  lift  him  where  most  trade  of  danger  ranged: 
26 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

Yet  did  you  say  '  Go  forth  ' :    and  none  of  this. 
Though  strongly  apprehended,  could  restrain 
The  stiff-borne  action:   what  hath  then  befallen, 
Or  what  hath  this  bold  enterprise  brought  forth, 
More  than  that  being  which  was  like  to  be? 

L.  Bard.  We  all  that  are  engaged  to  this  loss  i8o 

Knew  that  we  ventured  on  such  dangerous  seas 
That  if  we  wrought  out  life  'twas  ten  to  one ; 
And  yet  we  ventured,  for  the  gain  proposed 
Choked  the  respect  of  likely  peril  fear'd; 
And  since  we  are  o'erset,  venture  again. 
Come,  we  will  all  put  forth,  body  and  goods, 

Mor.  Tis  more  than  time:  and,  my  most  noble  lord, 
I  hear  for  certain,  and  do  speak  the  truth, 
The  gentle  Archbishop  of  York  is  up 
A\'itli  well-appointed  powers:   he  is  a  man  190 

Who  with  a  double  surety  binds  his  followers. 
Aly  lord  your  son  had  only  but  the  corpse, 
But  shadows  and  the  shows  of  men,  to  fight; 
For  that  same  word,  rebellion,  did  divide 
The  action  of  their  bodies  from  their  souls; 
And  they  did  fight  with  queasiness,  constrain'd, 
As  men  drink  potions,  that  their  weapons  only 
Seem'd  on  our  side;   but,  for  their  spirits  and  souls. 
This  word,  rebellion,  it  had  froze  them  up, 
As  fish  are  in  a  pond.     But  now  the  bishop  200 

Turns  insurrection  to  religion: 
Supposed  sincere  and  holy  in  his  thoughts. 
He  's  followed  both  with  body  and  with  mind; 
And  doth  enlarge  his  rising  with  the  blood 
Of  fair  King  Richard,  scraped  from  Pomfret  stones; 
Derives  from  heaven  his  quarrel  and  his  cause; 

27 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Tells  them  he  doth  bestride  a  bleeding  land, 
Gasping  for  life  under  great  Bolingbroke; 
And  more  and  less  do  flock  to  follow  him. 
North.  I  knew  of  this  before;   but,  to  speak  truth,      210 
This  present  grief  had  wiped  it  from  my  mind. 
Go  in  with  me;   and  counsel  every  man 
The  aptest  way  for  safety  and  revenge: 
Get  posts  and  letters,  and  make  friends  with  speed: 
Never  so  few,  and  never  yet  more  need. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene  II. 

London.    A  street. 

Enter  Falstaif,  ivith  his  Page  bearing  his 
sivord  and  buckler. 

FoL  Sirrah,  you  giant,  what  says  the  doctor  to  my 
water? 

Page.  He  said,  sir,  the  water  itself  was  a  good 
healthy  water;  but,  for  the  party  that  owed 
it,  he  might  have  moe  diseases  than  he  knew 
for. 

Fal.  Men  of  all  sorts  take  a  pride  to  gird  at  me:  the 
brain  of  this  foolish-compounded  clay,  man,  is 
not  able  to  invent  any  thing  that  tends  to 
laughter,  more  than  I  invent  or  is  invented  on  10 
me :  I  am  not  only  witty  in  myself,  but  the  cause 
that  wit  is  in  other  men.  I  do  here  walk  before 
thee  like  a  sow  that  hath  overwhelmed  all  her 
litter  but  one.  If  the  prince  put  thee  into  m)' 
service  for  any  other  reason  than  to  set  me  oflf, 
why  then  I  have  no  judgement.  Thou  whoreson 
28 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

mandrake,  thou  art  fitter  to  be  worn  in  my  cap 
than  to  wait  at  my  heels.  I  was  never  manned 
with  an  agate  till  now :  but  I  will  inset  you 
neither  in  gold  nor  silver,  but  in  vile  apparel, 
and  send  you  back  again  to  your  master,  for  a 
jewel, — the  juvenal,  the  prince  your  master, 
whose  chin  is  not  yet  fledged.  I  will  sooner 
have  a  beard  grow  in  the  palm  of  my  hand  than 
he  shall  get  one  on  his  cheek ;  and  yet  he  will 
not  stick  to  say  his  face  is  a  face-royal :  God 
may  finish  it  when  he  will,  'tis  not  a  hair  amiss 
yet:  he  may  keep  it  still  a  face-royal,  for  a 
barber  shall  never  earn  sixpence  out  of  it ;  and 
yet  he  '11  be  crowing  as  if  he  had  writ  man  ever  30 
since  his  father  was  a  bachelor.  He  may  keep 
his  own  grace,  but  he's  almost  out  of  mine,  I 
can  assure  him.  What  said  Master  Dombledom 
about  the  satin  for  my  short  cloak  and  my  slops  ? 

Page.  He  said,  sir,  you  should  procure  him  better 
assurance  than  Bardolph  :  he  would  not  take  his 
band  and  yours  ;  he  liked  not  the  security. 

Fal.  Let  him  be  damned,  like  the  glutton !  pray  God 
his  tongue  be  hotter  !  A  whoreson  Achitophel ! 
a  rascally  yea-forsooth  knave !  to  bear  a  gentle-  40 
man  in  hand,  and  then  stand  upon  security! 
The  whoreson  smooth-pates  do  now  wear 
nothing  but  high  shoes,  and  bunches  of  keys 
at  their  girdles ;  and  if  a  man  is  through  with 
them  in  honest  taking  up,  then  they  must  stand 
upon  security.  I  had  as  lief  they  would  put 
ratsbane  in  my  mouth  as  offer  to  stop  it  with 
security.  I  looked  a'  should  have  sent  me  two 
29 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

and  twenty  yards  of  satin,  as  I  am  a  true  knight, 
and  he  sends  me  security.  Well,  he  may  sleep  50 
in  security ;  for  he  hath  the  horn  of  abundance, 
and  the  lightness  of  his  wife  shines  through  it : 
and  yet  cannot  he  see,  though  he  have  his  own 
lanthorn  to  light  him.    Where  's  Bardolph  ? 

Page.  He  's  gone  into  Smithfield  to  buy  your  worship 
a  horse. 

Fal.  I  bought  him  in  Paul's,  and  he  '11  buy  me  a 
horse  in  Smithfield :  an  I  could  get  me  but  a 
wife  in  the  stews,  I  were  manned,  horsed,  and 
wived.  60 

Enter  the  Lord  Chief  Justice  and  Servant. 

Page.   Sir,  here  comes  the  nobleman  that  committed 
the  prince  for  striking  him  about  Bardolph. 

Fal.  Wait  close  ;  I  will  not  see  him. 

Ch.  Just.  What 's  he  that  goes  there? 

Serv.  Falstaff,  an  't  please  your  lordship. 

Ch.  Just.  He  that  was  in  question  for  the  robbery  ? 

Serz'.  He,  my  lord :  but  he  hath  since  done  good 
service  at  Shrewsbury ;  and,  as  I  hear,  is  now 
going  with  some  charge  to  the  Lord  John  of 
Lancaster.  yo 

Ch.  Just.  W^hat,  to  York?    Call  him  back  again. 

Serz'.  Sir  John  Falstafi* ! 

Fal.  Boy,  tell  him  I  am  deaf. 

Page.  You  must  speak  louder ;  my  master  is  deaf. 

Ch.  Just.  I  am  sure  he  is,  to  the  hearing  of  any 
thing  good.  Go,  pluck  him  by  the  elbow ;  I 
must  speak  wnth  him. 

Serz'.  Sir  John. 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

Fal.  What !    a  young  knave,  and  begging !     Is  there 

not  wars?  is  there  not  employment?  doth  not  80 
the  king  lack  subjects?  do  not  the  rebels  need 
soldiers?  Though  it  be  a  shame  to  be  on  any 
side  but  one,  it  is  worse  shame  to  beg  than  to 
be  on  the  worst  side,  were  it  worse  than  the 
name  of  rebellion  can  tell  how  to  make  it. 

Scrv.  You  mistake  me,  sir. 

Fal.  Why,  sir,  did  I  say  you  were  an  honest  man  ? 
setting  my  knighthood  and  my  soldiership  aside, 
I  had  lied  in  my  throat,  if  I  had  said  so. 

Serv.  I  pray  you,  sir,  then  set  your  knighthood  and     90 
your  soldiership  aside ;  and  give  me  leave  to  tell 
you,  you  lie  in  your  throat,  if  you  say  I  am  any 
other  than  an  honest  man. 

Fal.  I  give  thee  leave  to  tell  me  so !  I  lay  aside  that 
which  grows  to  me!  If  thou  gettest  any  leave 
of  me,  hang  me ;  if  thou  takest  leave,  thou  wert 
better  be  hanged.  You  hunt  counter :  hence ! 
avaunt ! 

Serv.  Sir,  my  lord  would  speak  with  you. 

Ch.  Just.  Sir  John  Falstafif,  a  word  with  you.  100 

Fal.  My  good  lord !  God  give  your  lordship  good 
time  of  day.  I  am  glad  to  see  your  lordship 
abroad :  I  heard  say  your  lordship  was  sick :  I 
hope  your  lordship  goes  abroad  by  advice.  Your 
lordship,  though  not  clean  past  your  youth,  hath 
yet  some  smack  of  age  in  you,  some  relish  of  the 
saltness  of  time  :  and  I  most  humbly  beseech  your 
lordship  to  have  a  reverend  care  of  your  health. 

CJi.  Just.  Sir  John,  I  sent  for  you  before  your  ex- 
pedition to  Shrewsbury.  no 

31 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Fal.  An  't  please  your  lordship,  I  hear  his  majesty  is 
returned  with  some  discomfort  from  Wales. 

Ch.  Just.  I  talk  not  of  his  majesty:  you  would  not 
come  when  I  sent  for  you. 

Fal.  And  I  hear,  moreover,  his  highness  is  fallen  into 
this  same  whoreson  apoplexy. 

Ch.  Just.  Well,  God  mend  him !  I  pray  you,  let  me 
speak  with  you. 

Fal.  This  apoplexy  is,  as  I  take  it,  a  kind  of  lethargy, 

an  't  please  your  worship;   a  kind  of  sleeping  in   120 
the  blood,  a  whoreson  tingling. 

Ch.  Just.  What  tell  you  me  of  it  ?  be  it  as  it  is. 

Fal.  Tt  hath  its  original  from  much  grief,  from  study 
and  perturbation  of  the  brain :  I  have  read  the 
cause  of  his  effects  in  Galen :  it  is  a  kind  of 
deafness. 

Ch.  Just.  I  think  you  are  fallen  into  the  disease ;  for 
you  hear  not  what  I  say  to  you. 

Fal.  Very   well,   my   lord,   very   well :    rather,   an 't 

please  you,  it  is  the  disease  of  not  listening,  the  130 
malady    of   not    marking,    that    I    am    troubled 
withal. 

Ch.  Just.  To  punish  you  by  the  heels  would  amend 
the  attention  of  your  ears  ;  and  I  care  not  if  I  do 
become  your  physician. 

Fal.  I  am  as  poor  as  Job,  my  lord,  but  not  so  patient : 
your  lordship  may  minister  the  potion  of  impris 
onment  to  me  in  respect  of  poverty ;   but  how  I 
should  be  your  patient  to  follow  your  prescrip- 
tions, the  wise  may  make  some  dram  of  a  scruple,   140 
or  indeed  a  scruple  itself. 

Ch.  Just.  I   sent  for  you,  when  there  were  matters 

32 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

against  you  for  your  life,  to  come  speak  with 

me. 
Fal.  As  I  was  then  advised  by  my  learned  counsel  in 

the  laws  of  this  land-service,  I  did  not  come. 
Ch.  Just.  Well,  the  truth  is.   Sir  John,  you  live  in 

great  infamy. 
Fal.  He  that  buckles  him  in  my  belt  cannot  live  in 

less. 
Ch.  Just.  Your   means   are   very   slender,    and   your 


150 


Pal.  I  would  it  were  otherwise ;    I  would  my  means 

were  greater,  and  my  waist  slenderer. 
CJi.  Just.  You  have  misled  the  youthful  prince. 
Fal.  The  young  prince  hath  misled  me :    I  am  the 

fellow  with  the  great  belly,  and  he  my  dog. 
Ch.  Just.  Well,    I    am    loath    to    gall    a    new-healed 

wound :   your  day's  service  at  Shrewsbury  hath 

a  little  gilded  over  your  night's  exploit  on  Gads-  160 

hill :    you  may  thank  the  unquiet  time  for  your 

quiet  o'er-posting  that  action. 
Fal   My  lord? 
CJi.  Just.  But  since  all  is  well,  keep  it  so :    wake  not 

a  sleeping  wolf. 
Fal.  To  wake  a  wolf  is  as  bad  as  to  smell  a  fox. 
Ch.  Just.  What !   you  are  as  a  candle,  the  better  part 

burnt  out. 
Fal.  A  wassail  candle,  my  lord,  all  tallow :    if  I  did 

say   of   wax,    my   growth    would   approve   the  170 

truth. 
Ch.  Just.  There  is  not  a  white  hair  on  your  face  but 

should  have  his  effect  of  gravity. 
Fal.  His  effect  of  gravy,  gravy,  gravy. 

33 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Ch.  Just.  Yon  follow  the  young  prince  up  and  down, 
like  his  ill  angel. 

Fal.  Not  so,  my  lord ;  your  ill  angel  is  light ;  but  I 
hope  he  that  looks  upon  me  will  take  me  with- 
out weighing :  and  yet,  in  some  respects,  I  grant, 
I  cannot  go:  I  cannot  tell.  Virtue  is  of  so  little  i8o 
regard  in  these  costermonger  times  that  true 
valour  is  turned  bear-herd :  pregnancy  is  made 
a  tapster,  and  hath  his  quick  wit  wasted  in  giving 
reckonings :  all  the  other  gifts  appertinent  to 
man,  as  the  malice  of  this  age  shapes  them,  are 
not  worth  a  gooseberry.  You  that  are  old  con- 
sider not  the  capacities  of  us  that  are  young; 
you  do  measure  the  heat  of  our  livers  with  the 
bitterness  of  your  galls:  and  we  that  are  in  the 
vaward  of  our  youth,  I  must  confess,  are  wags  190 
too. 

Ch.  Just.  Do  you  set  down  your  name  in  the  scroll 
of  youth,  that  are  written  down  old  with  all  the 
characters  of  age^  Have  you  not  a  moist  eye? 
a  dry  hand?  a  yellow^  cheek?  a  white  beard?  a 
decreasing  leg  ?  an  increasing  belly  ?  is  not  your 
voice  broken?  your  wind  short?  your  chin 
double?  your  wit  single?  and  every  part  about 
you  blasted  with  antiquity  ?  and  will  you  yet  call  • 
yourself  young?    Fie,  fie,  fie,  Sir  John  !  200 

Fal.  My  lord,  I  was  born  about  three  of  the  clock 
in  the  afternoon,  with  a  white  head  and  some- 
thing a  round  belly.  For  my  voice,  I  have  lost 
it  with  halloing  and  singing  of  anthems.  To 
approve  my  youth  further,  I  will  not :  the  truth 
is,  I  am  only  old  in  judgement  and  understand 

34 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

ing;  and  he  that  will  caper  with  me  for  a 
thousand  marks,  let  him  lend  me  the  money,  and 
have  at  him.  For  the  box  of  the  ear  that  the 
prince  gave  you,  he  gave  it  like  a  rude  prince,  210 
and  you  took  it  like  a  sensible  lord.  I  have 
checked  him  for  it,  and  the  young  lion  repents; 
marry,  not  in  ashes  and  sackcloth,  but  in  new 
silk  and  old  sack. 

CJi.  J  list.  Well,   God  send  the  prince  a  better  com- 
panion ! 

Pal.  God  send  the  companion  a  better  prince  !     I  can- 
not rid  my  hands  of  him. 

CJi.  Just.  Well,  the  king  hath  severed  you  and  Prince 

Harrv :   I  hear  you  are  going  with  Lord  John  of  220 
Lancaster  against  the  Archbishop  and  the  Earl  of 
Northumberlan  d. 

Fal.  Yea  ;  I  thank  your  pretty  sweet  wit  for  it.  But 
look  you  pray,  all  you  that  kiss  my  lady  Peace  at 
home,  that  our  armies  join  not  in  a  hot  day ;  for, 
by  the  Lord,  I  take  but  two  shirts  out  with  me, 
and  I  mean  not  to  sweat  extraordinarily  :  if  it  be 
a  hot  day,  and  I  brandish  any  thing  but  a  bottle, 
I  would  I  might  never  spit  white  again.  There 
is  not  a  dangerous  action  can  peep  out  his  head.  230 
but  I  am  thrust  upon  it :  well,  I  cannot  last  ever : 
but  it  was  alway  yet  the  trick  of  our  English 
nation,  if  they  have  a  good  thing,  to  make  it  too 
common.  If  ye  will  needs  say  I  am  an  old  man, 
you  should  give  me  rest.  I  would  to  God  my 
name  were  not  so  terrible  to  the  enemy  as  it  is : 
I  were  better  to  be  eaten  to  death  wnth  a  rust  than 
to  be  scoured  to  nothing  with  perpetual  motion. 

35 


Act  I.  Sc.  li.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Ch.  Just.  Well,  be  honest,  be  honest ;    and  God  bless 

your  expedition !  240 

Fal.  Will  your  lordship  lend  me  a  thousand  pound  to 
furnish'  me  forth  ? 

Ch.  Just.  Not  a  penny,  not  a  penny ;  you  are  too  im- 
patient to  bear  crosses.  Fare  you  well :  com- 
mend me  to  my  cousin  Westmoreland. 

[Exetmt  Chief  Justice  and  Servant. 

Fal.  If  I  do,  fillip  me  with  a  three-man  beetle.  A 
man  can  no  more  separate  age  and  covetousness 
than  a'  can  part  young  limbs  and  lechery :  but 
the  gout  galls  the  one,  and  the  pox  pinches  the 
other ;  and  so  both  the  degrees  prevent  my  250 
curses.    Boy ! 

Page.  Sir? 

Fal.  What  money  is  in  my  purse  ? 

Page.   Seven  groats  and  two  pence. 

Fal.  I  can  get  no  remedy  against  this  consumption  of 
the  purse :  borrowing  only  lingers  and  lingers  it 
out,  but  the  disease  is  incurable.  Go  bear  this 
letter  to  my  Lord  of  Lancaster;  this  to  the 
prince ;  this  to  the  Earl  of  Westmoreland ;  and 
this  to  old  Mistress  Ursula,  whom  I  have  260 
weekdy  sworn  to  marry  since  I  perceived  the  first 
white  hair  on  my  chin.  About  it :  you  know 
where  to  find  me.  [Exit  Page.]  A  pox  of  this 
gout !  or,  a  gout  of  this  pox !  for  the  one  or  the 
other  plays  the  rogue  with  my  great  toe.  'Tis 
no  matter  if  I  do  halt ;  I  have  the  wars  for  my 
colour,  and  my  pension  shall  seem  the  more 
reasonable.  A  good  wit  will  make  use  of  any 
thing :   I  will  turn  diseases  to  commodity.  [Exit, 

36 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  I.  Sc.  iii. 

Scene  III. 

York.    The  Archbishop's  palace. 

Ejuter  the  Archbishop,  the  Lords  Hastings,   Mozvbray, 
and  Bardolph. 

Arch.  Thus  have  you  heard  our  cause  and  kno\^i  our 
means ; 
And,  my  most  noble  friends,  I  pray  you  all, 
Speak  plainly  your  opinions  of  our  hopes  : 
And  first,  lord  marshal,  what  say  you  to  it  ? 

Mozi'b.  I  well  allow  the  occasion  of  our  arms ; 
But  gladly  would  be  better  satisfied 
How  in  our  means  we  should  advance  ourselves 
To  look  with  forehead  bold  and  big  enough 
Upon  the  power  and  puissance  of  the  king. 

Hast.  Our  present  musters  grow  upon  the  file  lo 

To  five  and  twenty  thousand  men  of  choice ; 
And  our  supplies  live  largely  in  the  hope 
Of  great  Northumberland,  whose  bosom  burns 
With  an  incensed  fire  of  injuries. 

L.  Bard.  The  question  then,  Lord  Hastings,  standeth  thus  ; 
Whether  our  present  five  and  twenty  thousand 
May  hold  up  head  without  Northumberland  ? 

Hast.  With  him,  we  may. 

L.  Bard.  Yea,  marry,  there  's  the  point : 

But  if  without  him  we  be  thought  too  feeble, 
]\Iy  judgement  is,  we  should  not  step  too  far  20 

Till  we  had  his  assistance  by  the  hand  ; 
For  in  a  theme  so  bloody-faced  as  this 
Conjecture,  expectation,  and  surmise 
Of  aids  incertain  should  not  be  admitted. 

Arch.  'Tis  very  true.  Lord  Bardolph ;   for  indeed 

37 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

It  was  young  Hotspur's  case  at  Shrewsbury. 
L.  Bard.  It  was,  my  lord ;  who  Hned  himself  with  hope, 
Eating  the  air  on  promise  of  supply, 
Flattering  himself  in  project  of  a  power 
Much  smaller  than  the  smallest  of  his  thoughts.       30 
And  so,  with  great  imagination 
Proper  to  madmen,  led  his  powers  to  death, 
And  winking  leap'd  into  destruction. 

Hast.  But,  by  your  leave,  it  never  yet  did  hurt 
To  lay  down  likelihoods  and  forms  of  hope. 

L.  Bard.  Yes,  in  this  present  quality  of  war  ; 

Indeed  the  instant  action — a  cause  on  foot — 

Lives  so  in  hope  as  in  an  early  spring. 

We  see  the  appearing  buds ;  which  to  prove  fruit, 

Hope  gives  not  so  much  warrant  as  despair  40 

That  frost  will  bite  them.    When  we  mean  to  build. 

We  first  survey  the  plot,  then  draw  the  model ; 

And  when  we  see  the  figure  of  the  house. 

Then  must  we  rate  the  cost  of  the  erection ; 

\Miich  if  we  find  outweighs  ability, 

What  do  we  then  but  draw  anew  the  model 

In  fewer  offices,  or  at  least  desist 

To  build  at  all  ?    IMuch  more,  in  this  great  work, 

Which  is  almost  to  pluck  a  kingdom  down 

And  set  another  up,  should  we  survey  50 

The  plot  of  situation  and  the  model, 

Consent  upon  a  sure  foundation. 

Question  surveyors,  know  our  own  estate, 

How  able  such  a  work  to  undergo. 

To  weigh  against  his  opposite ;   or  else 

We  fortify  in  paper  and  in  figures, 

Using  the  names  of  men  instead  of  men : 

38 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  I.  Sc.  iii. 

Like  one  that  draws  the  model  of  a  house 
Beyond  his  power  to  build  it;  who,  half  through, 
Gives  o'er  and  leaves  his  part-created  cost  60 

A  naked  subject  to  the  weeping  clouds. 
And  waste  for  churlish  winter's  tyranny. 

Hast.  Grant  that  our  hopes,  yet  likely  of  fair  birth, 
Should  be  still-born,  and  that  we  now  possess'^ 
The  utmost  man  of  expectation, 
I  think  we  are  a  body  strong  enough, 
Even  as  we  are,  to  equal  with  the  king. 

L.  Bard.    AMiat,  is  the  king  but  five  and  twenty  thousand  ? 

Hast.  To  us  no  more ;  nay,  not  so  much.  Lord  Bardoloh. 
For  his  divisions,  as  the  times  do  brawl,  70 

Are  in  three  heads:   one  power  against  the  French, 
And  one  against  Glendower;    perforce  a  third 
Must  take  up  us:    so  is  the  unfirm  king 
In  three  divided;   and  his  coffers  sound 
With  hollow  poverty  and  emptiness. 

Arch.  That  he  should  draw  his  several  strengths  together 
And  come  against  us  in  full  puissance. 
Need  not  be  dreaded. 

Hast.  If  he  should  do  so. 

He  leaves  his  back  unarm'd,  the  French  and  Welsh 
Baying  him  at  the  heels :  never  fear  that.  80 

L.  Bard.  Who  is  it  like  should  lead  his  forces  hither? 

Hast.  The  Duke  of  Lancaster  and  Westmoreland; 

Against  the  Welsh,  himself  and  Harry  Monmouth: 
But  who  is  substituted  'gainst  the  French, 
I  have  no  certain  notice. 

Arch.  Let  us  on, 

And  pubHsh  the  occasion  of  our  arms. 
The  commonwealth  is  sick  of  their  own  choice; 

39 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Their  over-greedy  love  hath  surfeited: 

An  habitation  giddy  and  unsure 

Hath  he  that  buildeth  on  the  vulgar  heart.  90 

O  thou  fond  many,  with  what  loud  applause 

Didst  thou  beat  heaven  with  blessing  Bolingbroke, 

Before  he  was  what  thou  wouldst  have  him  be! 

And  being  now  trimm'd  in  thine  own  desires, 

Thou,  beastly  feeder,  art  so  full  of  him, 

That  thou  provokest  thyself  to  cast  him  up. 

So,  so,  thou  common  dog,  didst  thou  disgorge 

Thy  glutton  bosom  of  the  royal  Richard; 

And  now  thou  wouldst  eat  thy  dead  vomit  up,        99 

And  howl'st  to  find  it.    What  trust  is  in  these  times? 

They  that,  when  Richard  lived,  would  have  him  die, 

Are  now  become  enamour'd  on  his  grave: 

Thou,  that  threw'st  dust  upon  his  goodly  head 

When  through  proud  London  he  came  sighing  on 

After  the  admired  heels  of  BoHngbroke, 

Criest  now  '  O  earth,  yield  us  that  king  again. 

And  take  thou  this!  '    O  thoughts  of  men  accursed! 

Past  and  to  come  seems  best;  tilings  present,  worst. 

Mozi'b.  Shall  we  go  draw  our  numbers,  and  set  on? 

Hast.  We  are  time's  subjects,  and  time  bids  be  gone,   no 

[Exeunt. 


46 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

ACT  SECOND. 

Scene  I. 

London.    A  street. 

Enter  Hostess,  Fang  and  his  Boy  zvith  her,  and 
Snare  foUozuing. 

Host.  Master  Fang,  have  you  entered  the  action  ? 

Fang.  It  is  entered. 

Host.  Where  's  your  yeoman?  Is  't  a  lusty  yeoman  ? 
will  a'  stand  to  't  ? 

Fang.  Sirrah,  where  's  Snare  ? 

Host.  O  Lord,  ay!   good  Master  Snare. 

Snare.  Here,  here. 

Fang.  Snare,  we  must  arrest  Sir  John  Falstaff. 

Host.  Yea,  good  Master  Snare ;    I  have  entered  him 

and  all.  '  lo 

Snare.  It  may  chance  cost  some  of  us  our  lives,  for 
he  will  stab. 

Host.  Alas  the  day!  take  heed  of  him;  he  stabbed 
me  in  mine  own  house,  and  that  most  beastly: 
in  good  faith,  he  cares  not  what  mischief  he 
does,  if  his  weapon  be  out:  he  will  foin  like 
any  devil ;  he  will  spare  neither  man,  woman, 
nor  child. 

Fang.  If  I  can  close  with  him,  I  care  not  for  his 
thrust. 

Host.  No,  nor  I  neither :  I  '11  be  at  your  elbow.  20 

Fang.  An  I  but  fist  him  once ;  an  a'  come  but  within 
my  vice, — 

Host.  I  am  undone  by  his  going;  I  warrant  you, 
he  's  an  infinite  thing  upon  my  score.  Good  Mas- 
ter Fang,  hold  him  sure :  good  Master  Snare,  let 

41 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

him  not  'scape.  A'  comes  continually  to  Pie- 
corner — saving  your  manhoods — to  buy  a  saddle  ; 
and  he  is  indited  to  dinner  to  the  Lubber's-head 
in  Lumbert  street,  to  Master  Smooth's  the  silk- 
man^:  I  pray  ye,  since  my  exion  is  entered  and  my  30 
case  so  openly  known  to  the  world,  let  him  be 
brought  in  to  his  answer.  A  hundred  mark  is  a 
long  one  for  a  poor  lone  woman  to  bear :  and  I 
have  borne,  and  borne,  and  borne ;  and  have 
been  fubbed  off,  and  fubbed  off,  and  fubbed  off, 
from  this  day  to  that  day,  that  it  is  a  shame  to  be 
thought  on.  There  is  no  honesty  in  such  deal- 
ing; unless  a  woman  should  be  made  an  ass  and 
a  beast,  to  bear  every  knave's  wrong.  Yonder  he 
comes ;  and  that  arrant  malmsev-nose  knave,  40 
Bardolph,  with  him.  Do  your  offices,  do  your 
offices :  Master  Fang  and  Master  Snare,  do  me, 
do  me,  do  me  your  offices. 

Enter  Falstaff,  Page,  and  Bardolph. 

Fal.  How   now !    whose  mare  's   dead  ?    what  's  the 
matter  ? 

Fang.   Sir  John,  I  arrest  you  at  the  suit  of  ^listress 
Quickly. 

Fal.  Away,  varlets  !   Draw,  Bardolph  :  cut  me  off  the 
villain's  head :    throw  the  quean  in  the  channel. 

Host.  Throw  me  in  the  channel !     I  "11  throw  thee 

in  the  channel.  Wilt  thou?  wilt  thou?  thou  50 
bastardly  rogue!  Murder,  murder!  Ah,  thou 
honey-suckle  villain  !  Wilt  thou  kill  God's  officers 
and  the  king's?  Ah,  thou  honey-seed  rogue! 
thou  art  a  honey-seed,  a  man-queller,  and  a 
woman -quel ler. 

42 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

Fal.  Keep  them  off,  Bardolph. 

Fang.  A  rescue!    a  rescue! 

Host.  Good  people,  bring  a  rescue  or  two.  Thou 
wo't,  wo't  thou?  thou  wo't.  wo't  ta?  do,  do, 
thou  rogue  !  do,  thou  hemp-seed  !  60 

Fal.  Away,  you  scuUion !  you  rampaUian !  you  fus- 
tilarian  !    I  '11  tickle  your  catastrophe. 

Enter  the  Lord  Chief  Justice,  and  his  men. 

Ch.  Just.  What  is  the  matter  ?    keep  the  peace  here, 

ho! 
Host.  Good  my  lord,  be  good  to  me.     I  beseech  you, 

stand  to  me. 
Ch.  Just.  How  now.  Sir  John !    what  are  you  brawling 
here? 

Doth  this  become  your  place,  your  time  and  business  ? 

You  should  have  been  well  on  your  way  to  York. 

Stand  form  him,  fellow  :  wherefore  hang'st  upon  him  ? 
Host.  O  my  most  worshipful  lord,  an  't  please  your     71 

grace,  I  am  a  poor  widow  of  Eastcheap,  and  he 

is  arrested  at  my  suit. 
Ch.  Just.  For  what  sum? 
Host.  It  is  more  than  for  some,  my  lord :  it  is  for  all, 

all  I  have.     He  hath  eaten  me  out  of  house  and 

home ;  he  hath  put  all  my  substance  into  that  fat 

belly  of  his  :  but  I  will  have  some  of  it  out  again, 

or  I  will  ride  thee  o'  nights  like  the  mare. 
Fal.  I  think  I  am  as  like  to  ride  the  mare,  if  I  have     80 

any  vantage  ground  to  get  up. 
Ch.  Just.  How   comes   this,   Sir  John  ?     Fie !    what 

man  of  good  temper  would  endure  this  tempest 

of  exclamation  ?     xA-re  you  not  ashamed  to  en- 

43 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

force  a  poor  widow  to  so  rough  a  course  to  come 
by  her  own  ? 

Fal.  What  is  the  gross  sum  that  I  owe  thee  ? 

Host.  Marry,  if  thou  wert  an  honest  man,  thyself  and 
the  money  too.  Thou  didst  swear  to  me  upon  a 
parcel-gilt  goblet,  sitting  in  my  Dolphin-chamber,  90 
at  the  roud  table,  by  a  sea-coal  fire,  upon 
Wednesday  in  Wheeson  week,  when  the  prince 
broke  thy  head  for  liking  his  father  to  a  singing- 
man  of  Windsor,  thou  didst  swear  to  me  then, 
as  I  was  washing  thy  wound,  to  marry  me  and 
make  me  my  lady  thy  wife.  Canst  thou  deny 
it?  Did  not  good  wife  Keech,  the  butcher's 
wife,  come  in  then  and  call  me  gossip  Quickly? 
coming  in  to  borrow  a  mess  of  vinegar ;  telling 
us  she  had  a  good  dish  of  prawns  ;  whereby  thou  100 
didst  desire  to  eat  some ;  whereby  I  told  thee 
they  were  ill  for  a  green  wound?  And  didst 
thou  not,  when  she  was  gone  down  stairs,  desire 
me  to  be  no  more  so  familiarity  with  such  poor 
people  ;  saying  that  ere  long  they  should  call  me 
madam?  And  didst  thou  not  kiss  me  and  bid 
me  fetch  thee  thirty  shillings?  I  put  thee  now 
to  thy  book-oath  :  deny  it,  if  thou  canst. 

Fal.  IMy  lord,  this  is  a  poor  mad  soul ;   and  she  says 

up  and  down  the  town  that  her  eldest  son  is  like  no 
you:   she  hath  been  in  good  case,  and  the  truth 
is,  poverty  hath  distracted  her.     But  for  these 
foolish  officers,  I  beseech  you  I  may  have  redress 
against  them. 

Ch.  Just.  Sir  John,  Sir  John,  I  am  well  acquainted 
with  your  manner  of  wrenching  the  true  cause 

44 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

the  false  way.  It  is  not  a  confident  brow,  nor 
the  throng  of  words  that  come  with  such  more 
than  impudent  sauciness  from  you,  can  thrust  me 
from  a  level  consideration  :  you  have,  as  it  ap-  120 
pears  to  me,  practised  upon  the  easy-yielding 
spirit  of  this  woman,  and  made  her  serve  your 
uses  both  in  purse  and  in  person. 

Host.  Yea,  in  truth,  my  lord. 

Cli.  Just.  Pray  thee,  peace.  Pay  her  the  debt  you  owe 
her,  and  unpay  the  villany  you  have  done  her : 
the  one  you  may  do  with  sterling  money,  and  the 
other  with  current  repentance. 

Fal.  My  lord,  I  will  not  undergo  this  sneap  without 

reply.  You  call  honourable  boldness  impudent  130 
sauciness :  if  a  man  will  make  courtesy  and  say 
nothing,  he  is  virtuous :  no,  my  lord,  my  humble 
duty  remembered,  I  will  not  be  your  suitor.  I 
say  to  you,  I  do  desire  deliverance  from  these 
officers,  being  upon  hasty  employment  in  the 
king's  affairs. 

Ch.  Jtist.  You  speak  as  having  power  to  do  wrong : 
but  answer  in  the  effect  of  your  reputation,  and 
satisfy  the  poor  woman. 

Fal.  Come  hither,  hostess.  140 

Enter  Gozvcr. 

Ch.  Jnst.  Now,  Master  Gower,  what  news  ? 

Gozv.  The  king,  my  lord,  and  Harry  Prince  of  Wales 

Are  near  at  hand  :  the  rest  the  paper  tells. 
Fal.  As  I  am  a  gentleman. 
Host.   Faith,  you  said  so  before. 
Fal.  As  I  am  a  gentleman.    Come,  no  more  words  of  it. 

45 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Host.  By  this  heavenly  ground  I  tread  on,  I  must  be 
fain  to  pawn  both  my  plate  and  the  tapestry  of 
my  dining-chambers. 

Fal.  Glasses,  glasses,  is  the  only  drinking:  and  for  150 
thy  walls,  a  pretty  slight  drollery,  or  the  story 
of  the  Prodigal,  or  the  German  hunting  in  water- 
work,  is  worth  a  thousand  of  these  bed-hangings 
and  these  fly-bitten  tapestries.  Let  it  be  ten 
pound,  if  thou  canst.  Come,  an  'twere  not  for 
thy  humours,  there  's  not  a  better  wench  in  Eng- 
land. Go,  wash  thy  face,  and  draw  the  action. 
Come,  thou  must  not  be  in  this  humour  with  me ; 
dost  not  know  me?  come,  come,  I  know  thou 
wast  set  on  to  this.  160 

Host.  Pray  thee.  Sir  John,  let  it  be  but  twenty  no- 
bles :  i'  faith,  I  am  loath  to  pawn  my  plate,  so 
God  save  me,  la ! 

Fal.  Let  it  alone;  I  '11  make  other  shift:  you  '11  be  a 
fool  still. 

Host.  Well,  you  shall  have  it,  though  I  pawn  my 
gown.  I  hope  you  '11  come  to  supper.  You  '11 
pay  me  all  together? 

Fal  Will  I  live?     [To  Bard ol ph.]    Go,  with  her,  with 

her;  hook  on,  hook  on.  170 

Host.  Will  you  have  Doll  Tearsheet  meet  you  at 
supper  ? 

Fal.   No  more  words  ;   let 's  have  her. 

\Fxcunt  Hostess,  Bardolph,  officers^  and  Boy, 

Ch.  Just.  I  have  heard  better  news. 

Fal.  What 's  the  news,  my  lord  ? 

Ch.  Just.  Where  lay  the  king  last  night  ? 

Gow.  At  Basingstoke,  my  lord. 

46 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

Fal.  I  hope,  my  lord,  all  's  well :    what  is  the  news, 

my  lord? 
Ch.  Just.  Come  all  his  forces  back?  i8o 

Goi<.\  No ;   fifteen  hundred  foot,  five  hundred  horse. 

Are  march 'd  up  to  my  Lord  of  Lancaster, 

Against  Northumberland  and  the  Archbishop. 
FaJ.  Comes  the  king  back  from  Wales,  my  noble  lord  ? 
Ch.  Just.  You  shall  have  letters  of  me  presently : 

Come,  go  along  with  me,  good  Master  Gower. 
Fal.  My  lord ! 

Ch.  Just.  What 's  the  matter? 
Fal.  Master  Gower,  shall  I  entreat  you  with  me  to 

dinner  ?  190 

Gozv.  I  must  wait  upon  my  good  lord  here ;    I  thank 

you,  good  Sir  John. 
Ch.  Just.  Sir  John,  you  loiter  here  too  long,  being 

you  are  to  take  soldiers  up  in  counties  as  you 

go. 
Fal.  Will  you  sup  with  me,  Master  Gower? 
Ch.  Just.  What    foolish    master    taught    you    these 

manners.  Sir  John  ? 
Fal.  Master  Gower,  if  they  become  me  not,  he  was 

a  fool  that  taught  them  me.     This  is  the  right  200 

fencing  grace,  my  lord ;  tap  for  tap,  and  so  part 

fair. 
Ch.  Just.  Now   the   Lord   lighten   thee !    thou   art  a 

great  fool.  [Exeunt. 


47 


Act  II.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Scene  II. 

London.    Another  street. 
Enter  Prince  Henry  and  Poins. 

Prince.  Before  God,  I  am  exceeding  weary. 

Poins.  Ts 't  come  to  that?  I  had  thought  weari- 
ness durst  not  have  attached  one  of  so  high 
blood. 

Prince.  Faith,  it  does  me ;  though  it  discolours  the 
complexion  of  my  greatness  to  acknowledge  it. 
Doth  it  not  show  vilely  in  me  to  desire  small 
beer? 

Poins.  Why,  a  prince  should  not  be  so  loosely  studied 

as  to  remember  so  weak  a  composition.  lo 

Prince.  Belike  then  my  appetite  was  not  princely  got ; 
for,  by  my  troth,  I  do  now  remember  the  poor 
creature,  small  beer.  But,  indeed,  these  humble 
considerations  make  me  out  of  love  with  my 
greatness.  What  a  disgrace  is  it  to  me  to  re- 
member thy  name!  or  to  know  thy  face  to- 
morrow !  or  take  note  how  many  pair  of  silk 
stockings  thou  hast,  viz.  these,  and  those  that 
were  thy  peach-coloured  ones !  or  to  bear  the 
inventory  of  thy  shirts  ;  as,  one  for  superfluity,  20 
and  another  for  use !  But  that  the  tennis-court- 
keeper  knows  better  than  I ;  for  it  is  a  low  ebb 
of  linen  with  thee  when  thou  keepest  not  racket 
there ;  as  thou  hast  not  done  a  great  while,  be- 
cause the  rest  of  thy  low  countries  have  made  a 
shift  to  eat  up  thy  holland :  and  God  knows, 
whether  those  that  bawl  out  the  ruins  of  thy 
linen  shall  inherit  his  kingdom :    but  the  mid- 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  II.  Sc.  ii. 

wives   say   the   children   are   not   in   the    fault ; 
whereupon  the  world  increases,  and  kindreds  are     30 
mightily  strengthened. 

Poins.  How  ill  it  follows,  after  you  have  laboured  so 
hard,  you  should  talk  so  idly!  Tell  me,  how 
many  good  young  princes  would  do  so,  their 
fathers  being  so  sick  as  yours  at  this  time  is  ? 

Prince.  Shall  I  tell  thee  one  thing,  Poins? 

Poins.  Yes,  faith ;  and  let  it  be  an  excellent  good 
thing. 

Prince.  It  shall  serve  among  wits  of  no  higher  breed- 
ing than  thine.  40 

Poins.  Go  to ;  I  stand  the  push  of  your  one  thing 
that  you  will  tell. 

Prince.  Marry,  I  tell  thee,  it  is  not  meet  that  I  shoilld 
be  sad,  now  my  father  is  sick :  albeit  I  could  tell 
to  thee,  as  to  one  it  pleases  me,  for  fault  of  a 
better,  to  call  my  friend,  I  could  be  sad,  and  sad 
indeed  too. 

Poins.  Very  hardly  upon  such  a  subject. 

Prince.  By  this  hand,  thou  thinkest  me  as  far  in  the 

devil's  book  as  thou  and  Falstafif  for  obduracy  50 
and  persistency :  let  the  end  try  the  man.  But 
I  tell  thee,  my  heart  bleeds  inwardly  that  my 
father  is  so  sick :  and  keeping  such  vile  company 
as  thou  art  hath  in  reason  taken  from  me  all 
ostentation  of  sorrow. 

Poins.  The  reason? 

Prince.  What  wouldst  thou  think  of  me,  if  I  should 
weep? 

Poins.   I  would  think  thee  a  most  princely  hypocrite. 

Prince.  It  would  be  every  man's  thought ;   and  thou     60 

49 


Act  IL  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

art  a  blessed  fellow  to  think  as  every  man  thinks  : 
never  a  man's  thought  in  the  world  keeps  the 
road-way  better  than  thine:  every  man  would 
think  me  an  hypocrite  indeed.  And  what  accites 
your  most  worshipful  thought  to  think  so? 

Poins.  Why,  because  you  have  been  so  lewd,  and  so 
much  engraffed  to  Falstafif. 

Prince.  And  to  thee. 

Poins.  By  this  light,  I  am  well  spoke  on  ;   I  can  hear 

it  with  mine  own  ears :   the  worst  that  they  can     70 
say  of  me  is  that  I  am  a  second  brother,  and  that 
I  am  a  proper  fellow  of  my  hands ;    and  those 
two  things,   I  confess,  I  cannot  help.     By  the 
mass,  here  comes  Bardolph. 

Enter  Bardolph  and  Page. 

Prince.  And  the  boy  that  I  gave  Falstaff :  a'  had  him 
from  me  Christian ;  and  look,  if  the  fat  villain 
have  not  transformed  him  ape. 

Bard.  God  save  your  grace ! 

Prince.  And  yours,  most  noble  Bardolph ! 

Bard.  Come,  you  virtuous  ass,  you  bashful  fool,  must     80 
you  be  blushing?    wherefore  blush  you  now? 
What  a  maidenly  man-at-arms  are  you  become ! 
Is  't  such  a  matter  to  get  a  pottle-pot's  maiden- 
head? 

Page.  A'  calls  me  e'en  now,  my  lord,  through  a  red 
lattice,  and  I  could  discern  no  part  of  his  face 
from  the  window :  at  last  I  spied  his  eyes ;  and 
methought  he  had  made  two  holes  in  the  ale- 
wife's  new  petticoat  and  so  peeped  through. 

Prince.  Has  not  the  boy  profited  ?  90 

50 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  II.  Sc.  ii. 

Bard.  Away,  you  whoreson  upright  rabbit,  away! 

Page.  Away,  you  rascally  Althaea's  dream,  away ! 

Prince.  Instruct  us,  boy;   what  dream,  boy? 

Page.  Marry,  my  lord,  Althaea  dreamed  she  was  de- 
livered of  a  fire-brand ;  and  therefore  T  call  him 
her  dream. 

Prince.  A  crown's  worth  of  good  interpretation : 
there  'tis,  boy. 

Poius.  O,  that  this  good  blossom  could  be  kept  from 

cankers  !    Well,  there  is  sixpence  to  preserve  thee  lOO 

Bard.  And  you  do  not  make  him  hanged  among  you, 
the  gallows  shall  have  wrong. 

Prince.  And  how  doth  thy  master,  Bardolph? 

Bard.  Well,  my  lord.  He  heard  of  your  grace's 
coming  to  town :   there  's  a  letter  for  you. 

Poins.  Delivered  with  good  respect  And  how  doth 
the  martlemas,  your  master? 

Bard.  In  bodily  health,  sir. 

Poins.  Marry,  the  immortal  part  needs  a  physician ; 

but  that  moves  not  him:   though  that  be  sick,  it  no 
dies  not. 

Prince.  I  do  allow  this  wen  to  be  as  familiar  with 
me  as  my  dog ;  and  he  holds  his  place ;  for  look 
you  how  he  writes. 

Poins.  [Reads]  '  John  Falstaff,  knight,' — every  man 
must  know  that,  as  oft  as  he  has  occasion  to 
name  himself :  even  like  those  that  are  kin  to  the 
king;  for  they  never  prick  their  finger  but  they 
say,  '  There  's  some  of  the  king's  blood  spilt.' 
*  How  comes  that  ?  '  says  he,  that  takes  upon  him 
not  to  conceive.  The  answer  is  as  ready  as  a  120 
borrower's  cap, '  I  am  the  king's  poor  cousin,  sir.* 

51 


Act  II.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Prince.  Nay,  they  will  be  kin  to  us,  or  they  will  fetch 
it  from  Japhet.     fkit  to  the  letter: 

Poins.    [Reads]   '  Sir  John  Falstaff,  knight  to  the  son 
'  of  the  king,  nearest  his  father,  Harry  Prince  of 
Wales,  greeting.'    Why,  this  is  a  certificate. 

Prince.  Peace! 

Poins.  [Reads]  '  I  will  imitate  the  honourable  Ro- 
mans in  brevity:'  he  sure  means  brevity  in  130 
breath,  short-winded.  '  I  commend  me  to  thee, 
I  commend  thee,  and  I  leave  thee.  Be  not  too 
familiar  with  Poins ;  for  he  misuses  thy  favours 
so  much,  that  he  swears  thou  art  to  marry  his 
sister  Nell.  Repent  at  idle  times  as  thou  may- 
est ;   and  so,  farewell. 

*  Thine,  by  yea  and  no,  which  is  as  much 
as  to  say,  as  thou  usest  him.  Jack 
Falstaff  with  my  familiars,  John 
with  my  brothers  and  sisters,  and  140 
Sir  John  with  all  Europe.' 
My  lord,  I  '11  steep  this  letter  in  sack,  and  make 
him  eat  it. 

Prince.  That 's  to  make  him  eat  twenty  of  his  words. 
But  do  you  use  me  thus,  Ned?  must  I  marry 
your  sister? 

Poins.  God  send  the  wench  no  worse  fortune !  But 
I  never  said  so. 

Prince.  Well,  thus  we  play  the  fools  with  the  time : 

and  the  spirits  of  the  wise  sit  in  the  clouds  and  150 
mock  us.     Is  your  master  here  in  London  ? 

Bard.  Yea,  my  lord. 

Prince.  Where  sups  he?  doth  the  old  boar  feed  in 
the  old  frank? 

S2 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  II.  Sc.  ii. 

Bard.  At  the  old  place,  my  lord,  in  Eastcheap. 

Prince.  What  company  ? 

Page.  Ephesians,  my  lord,  of  the  old  church. 

Prince.   Sup  any  women  with  him  ? 

Page.  None,  my  lord,  but  old  Mistress  Quickly  and 

Mistress  Doll  Tearsheet.  i6o 

Prince.  What  pagan  may  that  be  ? 
Page.  A  proper  gentlewoman,  sir,  and  a  kinswoman 

of  my  master's. 
Prince.  Even  such  kin  as  the  parish  heifers  are  to  the 

town  bull.     Shall  we  steal  upon  them,  Ned,  at 

supper  ? 
Poins.  I  am  your  shadow,  my  lord ;   I  '11  follow  you. 
Prince.  Sirrah,  you  boy,  and  Bardolph,  no  word  to 

your  master  that  I  am  yet  come  to  town  :  there  's 

for  your  silence.  170 

Bard.  I  have  no  tongue,  sir. 
Page.  And  for  mine,  sir,  I  will  govern  it. 
Prince.  Fare  you  well ;   go.      [Exeunt  Bardolph  and 

Page.]  This  Doll  Tearsheet  should  be  some  road. 
Poins.  I  warrant  you,  as  common  as  the  way  between 

Saint  Alban's  and  London. 
Prince.  How  might  we  see  Falstaff  bestow  himself 

to-night  in  his  true  colours,  and  not  ourselves  be 

seen  ? 
Poins.  Put  on  two  leathern  jerkins  and  aprons,  and  iSd 

wait  upon  him  at  his  table  as  drawers. 
Prince.  From  a  god  to  a  bull?   a  heavy  descension ! 

it  was  Jove's  case.     From  a  prince  to  a  prentice  ? 

a  low  transformation  !  that  shall  be  mine  ;   for  in 

every  thing  the  purpose  must  weigh  with  the 

folly.     Follow  me,  Ned.  [Exeunt. 

S3 


Act  II.  Sc.  iii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Scene  III. 

IVarkworth.     Before  the  castle. 

Enter  Northumberland,  Lady  Northumberland, 
and  Lady  Percy. 

North.  I  pray  thee,  loving  wife,  and  gentle  daughter, 
Give  even  way  unto  my  rough  affairs : 
Put  not  you  on  the  visage  of  the  times, 
And  be  like  them  to  Percy  troublesome. 

Lady  N.  I  have  given  over,  I  will  speak  no  more  : 
Do  what  you  will ;   your  wisdom  be  your  guide. 

North.  Alas,  sweet  wife,  my  honour  is  at  pawn  ; 
And,  but  my  going,  nothing  can  redeem  it. 

Lady  P.  O  yet,  for  God's  sake,  go  not  to  these  wars ! 

The  time  was,  father,  that  you  broke  your  word,      lo 

When  you  were  more  endear'd  to  it  than  now  ; 

When  your  own  Percy,  when  my  heart's  dear  Harry. 

Threw  many  a  northward  look  to  see  his  father 

Bring  up  his  powers  ;   but  he  did  long  in  vain. 

W' ho  then  persuaded  you  to  stay  'at  home  ? 

There  were  two  honours  lost,  yours  and  your  son's. 

For  yours,  the  God  of  heaven  brighten  it ! 

For  his,  it  stuck  upon  him  as  the  sun 

In  the  grey  vault  of  heaven,  and  by  his  light 

Did  all  the  chivalry  of  England  move  20 

To  do  brave  acts  :  he  was  indeed  the  glass 

Wherein  the  noble  youth  did  dress  themselves : 

He  had  no  legs  that  practised  not  his  gait  ; 

And  speaking  thick,  which  nature  made  his  blemish. 

Became  the  accents  of  the  valiant ; 

For  those  that  could  speak  low  and  tardily 

Would  turn  their  own  perfection  to  abuse, 

54 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  II.  Sc.  iii. 

To  seem  like  him  :   so  that  in  speech,  in  gait, 

In  diet,  in  affections  of  delight, 

In  military  rules,  humorous  of  blood,  30 

He  was  the  mark  and  glass,  copy  and  book, 

That  fashion 'd  others.    And  him,  O  wondrous  him ! 

O  miracle  of  men!   him  did  you  leave, 

Second  to  none,  unseconded  by  you. 

To  look  upon  the  hideous  god  of  war 

In  disadvantage;    to  abide  a  field 

Where  nothing  but  the  sound  of  Hotspur's  name 

Did  seem  defensible:    so  you  left  him. 

Never,  O  never,  do  his  ghost  the  wrong 

To  hold  your  honour  more  precise  and  nice  40 

With  others  than  with  him!    let  them  alone: 

The  marshal  and  the  archbishop  are  strong: 

Had  my  sweet  Harry  had  but  half  their  numbers. 

To-day  might  I,  hanging  on  Hotspur's  neck, 

Have  talk'd  of  ]\Ionmouth's  grave. 

North.  Beshrew  your  heart, 

Fair  daughter,  you  do  draw  my  spirits  from  me 
With  new  lamenting  ancient  oversights. 
But  I  must  go  and  meet  with  danger  there, 
Or  it  will  seek  me  in  another  place 
And  find  me  worse  provided. 

Lady  N.  O,  fly  to  Scotland,  50 

Till  that  the  nobles  and  the  armed  commons 
Have  of  their  puissance  made  a  little  taste. 

Lady  P.  If  they  get  ground  and  vantage  of  the  king, 
Then  join  you  with  them,  like  a  rib  of  steel. 
To  make  strength  stronger;    but,  for  all  our  loves, 
First  let  them  try  themselves.     So  did  your  son; 
He  was  so  suffer'd:   so  came  I  a  widow; 

55 


Act  II.  Sc.  iv.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

And  never  shall  have  length  of  life  enough 
To  rain  upon  remembrance  with  mine  eyes, 
That  it  may  grow  and  sprout  as  high  as  heaven,     60 
For  recordation  to  my  noble  husband. 
North.  Come,  come,  go  in  with  me.     'Tis  with  my  mind 
As  with  the  tide  swell'd  up  unto  his  height. 
That  makes  a  still-stand,  running  neither  way: 
Fain  would  I  go  to  meet  the  archbishop, 
But  many  thousand  reasons  hold  me  back. 
I  will  resolve  for  Scotland :  there  am  I, 
Till  time  and  vantage  crave  my  company.      [Exeunt. 

Scene  IV. 

London.     The  Boars-head  Tavern  in  Eastcheap. 
Enter  tivo  Drazvers, 

First  Draw.  What  the  devil  hast  thou  brought  there? 
apple-johns?  thou  knowest  Sir  John  cannot  en- 
dure an  apple-john. 

Sec.  Drazv.  Mass,  thou  sayest  true.  The  prince  once 
set  a  dish  of  apple-johns  before  him,  and  told  him 
there  were  five  more  Sir  Johns ;  and,  putting 
off  his  hat,  said,  '  I  will  now  take  my  leave  of 
these  six  dry,  round,  old,  withered  knights.'  It 
angered  him  to  the  heart:  but  he  hath  forgot 
that.  10 

First  Drazv.  Why,  then,  cover,  and  set  them  down : 
and  see  if  thou  canst  find  out  Sneak's  noise; 
Mistress  Tearsheet  would  fain  hear  some  music. 
Dispatch :  the  room  where  they  supped  is  too 
hot;  they  '11  come  in  straight. 

Sec.  Draw.  Sirrah,  here  will  be  the  prince  and  Master 

S6 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  II.  Sc.  iv. 

Poins  anon ;  and  they  will  put  on  two  of  our 
jerkins  and  aprons  ;  and  Sir  John  must  not  know 
of  it :   Bardolph  hath  brought  word. 

First  Drazv.  By  the  mass,  here  will  be  old  utis :    it     20 
>\  will  be  an  excellent  stratagem. 

Sec.  Drazv.  I  '11  see  if  I  can  find  out  Sneak.  [Exit. 

Enter  Hostess  and  Doll  Tearsheet. 

Host,  r  faith,  sweetheart,  methinks  now  you  are  in 
^  an  excellent  good  temperality:  your  pulsidge 
beats  as  extraordinarily  as.  heart  would  desire; 
and  your  colour,  I  warrant  you,  is  as  red  as  any 
rose,  in  good  truth,  la !  But,  i'  faith,  you  have 
drunk  too  much  canaries ;  and  that  's  a  mar- 
vellous searching  wine,  and  it  perfumes  the 
blood  ere  one  can  say  '  What 's  this  ? '  How  do  30 
you  now? 

Dol.  Better  than  I  was  :   hem  ! 

Host.  Why,  that 's  well  said ;  a  good  heart 's  worth 
gold.     Lo,  here  comes  Sir  John. 

Enter  Falstaif, 

Fal.  [Singing]  '  When  Arthur  first  in  court ' — 
Empty  the  Jordan.  [Exit  First  Drazver — [^in^- 
ing]  '  And  was  a  worthy  king.'  How  now.  Mis- 
tress Doll ! 

Host.  Sick  of  a  calm ;   yea,  good  faith. 

Fal.  So  is  all  her  sect ;    an  they  be  once  in  a  calm, 

they  are  sick.  40 

Dol.  You  muddy  rascal,  is  that  all  the  comfort  you 
give  me? 

Fal.  You  make  fat  rascals.  Mistress  Doll. 

Dol.  T  make  them  !  gluttony  and  diseases  make  them  ; 
I  make  them  not. 

57 


Act  II.  Sc.  iv.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Fal.  If  the  cook  help  to  make  the  gluttony,  you  help 
to  make  the  diseases,  Doll :  we  catch  of  you, 
Doll,  we  catch  of  you  ;  grant  that,  my  poor  vir- 
tue, grant  that. 

DoL  Yea,  joy,  our  chains  and  our  jewels.  50 

FaL  '  Your  brooches,  pearls,  and  ouches  ' :  for  to 
serve  bravely  is  to  come  halting  off,  you  know ; 
to  come  off  the  breach  with  his  pike  bent 
l^ravely,  and  to  surgery  bravely  ;  to  venture  upon 
the  charged  chambers  bravely, —  >^ 

DoL  Hang  vourself,  vou  muddy  conger,  hang  your- 
self! 

Host.  By  my  troth,  this  is  the  old  fashion ;  you  two 
never  meet  but  you  fall  to  some  discord :  you 
are  both,  i'  good  truth,  as  rheumatic  as  two  dry  60 
toasts ;  you  cannot  one  bear  with  another's  con- 
firmities.  What  the  good-year!  one  must  bear, 
and  that  must  be  you :  you  are  the  weaker  ves- 
sel, as  they  say,  the.  emptier  vessel. 

DoL  Can  a  weak  empty  vessel  bear  such  a  huge  full 
hogshead  ?  there  's  a  whole  merchant's  venture 
of  Bourdeaux  stuff  in  him ;  you  have  not  seen  a 
hulk  better  stuffed  in  the  hold.  Come,  I  '11  be 
friends  with  thee,  Jack :  thou  art  going  to  the 
wars ;  and  whether  I  shall  ever  see  thee  again  70 
or  no,  there  is  nobody  cares. 

Re-enter  First  Drazver. 

First  Drazv.  Sir,  Ancient  Pistol 's  below,  and  would 

speak  with  you. 
DoL  Hang  him,swaggering  rascal !   let  him  not  come 

hither  :  it  is  the  foul-mouthedst  rogue  in  England. 

S8 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  II.  Sc.  iv. 

Host.  If  he  swagger,  let  him  not  come  here :   no,  by 
my  faith;    I  must  Uve  among  my  neighbours; 
I  '11  no  swaggerers :    I  am  in  good  name  and 
fame  with  the  very  best :    shut  the  door ;    there 
comes  no  swaggerers  here :    I  have  not  lived  all     80 
this  while,  to  have  swaggering  now:    shut  the 
door,  I  pray  you. 
Fal  Dost  thou  hear,  hostess? 
Host.  Pray    ye,    pacify    yourself,    Sir    John:     there 

comes  no  swaggerers  here. 
Fal  Dost  thou  hear?   it  is  mine  ancient. 
Host.  Tilly-fally,  Sir  John,  ne'er  tell  me:  your  an- 
cient swaggerer  comes  not  m  my  doors.     I  was 
before  Master  Tisick,  the  deputy,  t'  other  day ; 
and,  as  he  said  to  me,  'twas  no  longer  ago  than     90 
Wednesday    last,     '  I,    good     faith,    neighbour 
Quickly,'  says  he ;   Master  Dumbe,  our  minister, 
was  by  then  ;   '  neighbour  Quickly,'  says  he,  '  re- 
ceive those  that  are  civil ;   for,'  said  he,  '  you  are 
in  an  ill  name ;  '  now  a'  said  so,  I  can  tell  where- 
upon ;  '  for,'  says  he,  '  you  are  an  honest  woman, 
and  well  thought  on ;    therefore  take  heed  what 
guests  you  receive :   receive,'  says  he,  '  no  swag- 
gering companions.'     There  comes  none  here: 
you  would  bless  you  to  hear  what  he  said:    no,   100 
I  '11  no  swaggerers. 
Fal.  He  's  no  swaggerer,  hostess ;   a  tame  cheater,  i' 
faith ;   you  may  stroke  him  as  gently  as  a  puppy 
greyhound :    he  '11  not  swagger  with  a  Barbary 
hen,  if  her  feathers  turn  back  in  any  show  of 
resistance.     Call  him  up,  drawer. 

[Exit  First  Drainer. 

59 


Act  II.  Sc.  iv.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Host.  Cheater,  call  you  him?     I  will  bar  no  honest 
man  my  house,  nor  no  cheater :  but  I  do  not  love 
swaggering,  by  my  troth  ;   I  am  the  worse,  when 
one  says  swagger:     feel,  masters,  how  I  shake;  no 
look  you,  I  warrant  you. 

Dol.  So  you  do,  hostess. 

Host.  Do  I  ?  yea,  in  very  truth,  do  I,  an  'twere  an 
aspen  leaf:     I  cannot  abide  swaggerers. 

Enter  Pistol,  Bardolpli,  and  Page. 

Pist.  God  save  you,  Sir  John ! 

Fal.  Welcome,    Ancient    Pistol.       Here,     Pistol,     I 

charge  you  with  a  cup  of  sack  :   do  you  discharge 

upon  mine  hostess. 
Pist.  I  will  discharge  upon  her,  Sir  John,  with  two 

bullets.  120 

Fal.  She  is  pistol-proof,  sir ;  you  shall  hardly  offend 
her. 

Host.  Come,  I  '11  drink  no  proofs  nor  no  bullets  :  I  '11 
drink  no  more  than  will  do  me  good,  for  no 
man's  pleasure,  I. 

Pist.  Then  to  you.  Mistress  Dorothy  ;  I  will  charge 
you. 

Dol.  Charge  me !     I   scorn  you,  scurvy  companion. 
What!    you  poor,  base,  rascally,  cheating,  lack- 
linen  mate!     Away,  you  mouldy  rogue,  away!   130 
I  am  meat  for  your  master. 

Pist.  I  know  you,  IMistress  Dorothy. 

Dol.  Away,  you  cut-purse  rascal !  you  filthy  bung, 
away !  by  this  wine,  I  '11  thrust  my  knife  in  your 
mouldy  chaps,  an  you  play  the  saucy  cuttle  with 
me.     Away,  you  bottle-ale  rascal !    you  basket- 

60 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  II.  Sc.  iv. 

hilt  stale  juggler,  you  !  Since  when,  I  pray  you, 
sir?  God's  light,  with  two  points  on  your 
shoulder  ?   much ! 

Pist,   God  let  me  not  live,  but  I  will  murder  your  ruff   140 
for  this. 

Fal,  No  more,  Pistol ;    I  would  not  have  you  go  off 
here  :  discharge  yourself  of  our  company,  Pistol. 

Host.  No,  good  Captain  Pistol ;  not  here,  sweet  cap- 
tain. 

Dol.  Captain !  thou  abominable  damned  cheater,  art 
thou  not  ashamed  to  be  called  captain?  An 
captains  were  of  my  mind,  they  would  truncheon 
you  out,  for  taking  their  names  upon  you  before 
you  have  earned  them.  You  a  captain!  you  150 
slave,  for  what  ?  for  tearing  a  poor  whore's  ruff 
in  a  bawdy-house  ?  He  a  captain !  hang  him, 
rogue !  he  lives  upon  mouldy  stewed  prunes  and 
dried  cakes.  A  captain  !  God's  light,  these  vil- 
lains will  make  the  word  as  odious  as  the  word 
'  occupy  ' ;  w.hich  was  an  excellent  good  word 
before  it  was  ill  sorted :  therefore  captains  had 
need  look  to  't. 

Bard.  Pray  thee,  go  down,  good  ancient. 

Fal.  Hark  thee  hither,  Mistress  Doll.      ^  160 

Fist.  Not  I:    I  tell  thee  what,  Corporal  Bardolph,  T 
could  tear  her :    I  '11  be  revenged  of  her. 

Fa^ic.  Pray  thee,  go  down. 

Pist.  I'll  see  her  damned  first;  to  Pluto's  damned 
lake,  by  this  hand,  to  the  infernal  deep,  with 
Erebus  and  tortures  vile  also.  Hold  hook  and 
line,  say  I.  Down,  down,  dogs  !  down,  faitors  ! 
Have  we  not  Hiren  here  ? 
61 


Act  II.  Sc.  iv.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Host.  Good  Captain  Peesel,  be  quiet ;    'tis  very  late, 

i'    faith:     I    beseek    you    now,    aggravate    your  170 
choler. 

Pist.  These    be    good    humours,    indeed!     Shall    pack- 
horses. 
And  hollow  pamper 'd  jades  of  Asia, 
Which  cannot  go  but  thirty  mile  a  day, 
Compare  with  C?esars,  and  with  Cannibals, 
And  Trojan  Greeks?  nay,  rather  damn  them  with 
King  Cerberus ;   and  let  the  welkin  roar. 
Shall  we  fall  foul  for  toys? 

Host.  By  my  troth,  captain,  these  are  very  bitter  words. 

Bard.  Be  gone,  good  ancient :    this  will  grow  to  a  iSd 
brawl  anon. 

Pist.  Die  men  like  dogs  !   give  crowns  like  pins  ! 
Have  we  not  Hiren  here? 

Host.  O'  my  word,  captain,  there  's  none  such  here. 
What  the  good-year  !   do  you  think  I  would  deny 
her?   For  God's  sake  be  quiet. 

Pist.  Then  feed,  and  be  fat,  my  fair  Calipolis. 
Come,  give  's  some  sack. 

'  Si  fortune  me  tormente,  sperato  me  contento.' 
Fear  we  broadsides?  no,  let  the  fiend  give  fire:     190 
Give  me  some  sack :  and,  sweetheart,  lie  thou  there. 

[Laying  doivn  his  sn'ord. 
Come  we  to  full  points  here ;  and  are  etceteras  noth- 
ing? 

Fal.   Pistol,  I  would  be  quiet. 

Pist.   Sweet  knight,  I  kiss  thy  neaf :   what !    we  have 
seen  the  seven  stars. 

Dot  For  God's  sake,  thrust  him  down  stairs :   I  can- 
not endure  such  a  fustian  rascal. 
62 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  II.  Sc.  iv. 

Pist.  Thrust  him  down  stairs!   know  we  not  Gallo- 
way nags  ? 

Fal.  Quoit  him  down,  Bardolph,  like  a  shove-goat  200 
shilling :   nay,  an  a'  do  nothing  but  speak  noth- 
ing, a'  shall  be  nothing  here. 

Bard.  Come,  get  you  down  stairs. 

Pist.  What !   shall  we  have  incision  ?  shall  we  imbrue  ? 

[Snatching  up  his  sword. 
Then    death    rock   me   asleep,    abridge   my    doleful 

days ! 
Why,  then,  let  grievous,  ghastly,  gaping  wounds 
Untwine  the  Sisters  Three !  Come,  Atropos,  I  say ! 

Host.  Here  's  goodly  stuff  toward ! 

Fal.  Give  me  my  rapier,  boy. 

Dol  I  pray  thee.  Jack,  I  pray  thee,  do  not  draw.         210 

Fal.  Get  you  down  stairs. 

[Drawing,  and  driving  Pistol  out. 

Host.  Here  's  a  goodly  tumult !  I  '11  forswear  keep- 
ing house,  afore  I  '11  be  in  these  tirrits  and 
frights.  So;  murder,  I  warrant  now.  Alas, 
alas !  put  up  your  naked  weapons,  put  up  your 
naked  weapons.  [Exeunt  Pistol  and  Bardolph. 

Dol.  I  pray  thee.  Jack,  be  quiet ;  the  rascal 's  gone. 
Ah,  you  whoreson  little  valiant  villain,  you ! 

Host.  Are  you  not  hurt  i'  the  groin?   methought  a' 

made  a  shrewd  thrust  at  your  belly.  220 

Re-enter  Bardolph. 

Fal.  Have  you  turned  him  out  o'  doors  ? 

Bard.  Yea,  sir.     The  rascal 's  drunk :  you  have  hurt 

him,  sir,  i'  the  shoulder. 
FaL  A  rascal !  to  brave  me ! 

63 


Act  II.  Sc.  iv.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Dol,  Ah,  you  sweet  little  rogue,  you!  Alas,  poor 
ape,  how  thou  sweatest !  come,  let  me  wipe  thy 
face ;  come  on,  you  whoreson  chops :  ah,  rogue ! 
i'  faith,  I  love  thee:  thou  art  as  valorous  as 
Hector  of  Troy,  worth  five  of  Agamemnon,  and 
ten  times  better  than  the  Nine  Worthies :  ah,  230 
villain ! 

Fal.  A  rascally  slave!  I  will  toss  the  rogue  in  a 
blanket. 

Dol  Do,  an  thou  darest  for  thy  heart :  an  thou  dost, 
I  '11  canvass  thee  between  a  pair  of  sheets. 

Enter  Music. 

Page,  The  music  Is  come,  sir. 

Fal.  Let  them  play.  Play,  sirs.  Sit  on  my  knee, 
Doll.  A  rascal  bragging  slave!  the  rogue  fled 
from  me  like  quicksilver. 

Dol.  V  faith,  and  thou  foUowedst  him  like  a  church.  240 
Thou  whoreson  little  tidy   Bartholomew  boar- 
pig,  when  wilt  thou  leave  fighting  o'  days  and 
foining  o'  nights,  and  begin  to  patch  up  thine  old 
body  for  heaven  ? 

Enter,  behind,  Prince  Henry  and  Poins,  disguised. 

Fal.  Peace,  good  Doll!  do  not  speak  like  a  death's- 
head  ;  do  not  bid  me  remember  mine  end. 

DoL  Sirrah,  what  humour  's  the  prince  of  ? 

Fal.  A  good  shallow  young  fellow:  a'  would  have 
made  a  good  pantler,  a'  would  ha'  chipped  bread 
well.  250 

Dol.  They  say  Poins  has  a  good  wit. 

Fal.  He  a  good  wit  ?   hang  him,  baboon !   his  wit 's 

64 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  II.  Sc.  ivo 

as   thick   as   Tewksbury   mustard;    there's   no 
more  conceit  in  him  than  is  in  a  mallet. 
DoL  Why  does  the  prince  love  him  so,  then  ? 
Fal.  Because  their  legs  are  both  of  a  bigness ;    and 
a'  plays  at  quoits  well;    and  eats  conger  and 
fennel;    and  drinks  off  candles'  ends  for  flap- 
dragons  ;  and  rides  the  wild-mare  with  the  boys  ; 
and  jumps  upon  joined-stools ;   and  swears  with  260 
a  good  grace ;  and  wears  his  boots  very  smooth, 
like  unto  the  sign  of  the  leg;    and  breeds  no 
bate  with  telling  of  discreet  stories ;    and  such 
other  gambol  faculties  a'  has,  that  show  a  weak 
mind  and  an  able  body,  for  the  which  the  prince 
admits  him :    for  the  prince  himself  is  such  an- 
other ;   the  weight  of  a  hair  will  turn  the  scales 
between  their  avoirdupois. 
Prince.  Would  not  this  nave  of  a  wheel  have  his  ears 

cutofif?  270 

Poins.  Let 's  beat  him  before  his  whore. 
Prince.  Look,  whether  the  withered  elder  hath  not 

his  poll  clawed  like  a  parrot. 
Poins.  Is  it  not  strange  that  desire  should  so  many 

years  outlive  performance? 
Fal.  Kiss  me,  Doll. 
Prince.  Saturn  and  Venus  this  year  in  conjunction! 

what  says  the  almanac  to  that  ? 
Poins.  And,  look,  whether  the  fiery  Trigon,  his  man, 

be  not   Usping  to  his   master's   old  tables,   his  280 
note-book,  his  counsel-keeper. 
Fal.  Thou  dost  give  me  flattering  busses. 
DoL  By  my  troth,  I  kiss  thee  with  a  most  constant 
heart.  • 

65 


Act  II.  Sc.  IV.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Fal.  I  am  old,  I  am  old. 

Dol.  I  love  thee  better  than  I  love  e'er  a  scurvy  young" 
boy  of  them  all. 

Fal.  What  stuff  wilt  have  a  kirtle  of  ?     I  shall  receive 
money  o'  Thursday:    shalt  have  a  cap  to-mor- 
row.   A  merry  song,  come:  it  grows  late;  we  '11  290 
to  bed.     Thou  'It  forget  me  when  I  am  gone. 

Dol,  By  my  troth,  thou  'It  set  me  a-weeping,  an  thou 
sayest  so :  prove  that  ever  I  dress  myself  hand- 
some till  thy  return :    well,  hearken  at  the  end. 

Fal.  Some  sack,  Francis. 

Ptxhcc     1 

.      '     y     Anon,  anon,  sir.  [Coming  forivard. 

Fal.  Ha !   a  bastard  son  of  the  king's  ?     And  art  not 

thou  Poins  his  brother? 
Prince.  Why,  thou  globe  of  sinful  continents,  what 

a  Hfe  dost  thou  lead !  300 

Fal.  A  better  than  thou  :  I  am  a  gentleman  ;  thou  art 

a  drawer. 
Prince.  Very  true,  sir ;   and  I  come  to  draw  you  out 

by  the  ears. 
Host.  O,  the  Lord  preserve  thy  good  grace !   by  my 

troth,  welcome  to  London.     Now,  the  Lord  bless 

that  sweet  face  of  thine !     O  Jesu,  art  you  come 

from  Wales? 
Fal.  Thou  whoreson  mad  compound  of  majesty,  by 

this    light    flesh    and    corrupt    blood,    thou    art  310 

welcome. 
Dol.  How,  you  fat  fool !   I  scorn  you. 
Poins.  My  lord,  he  will  drive  you  out  of  your  re- 
venge and  turn  all  to  a  merriment,  if  you  take 

not  the  heat.    • 

66 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  II.  Sc.  iv. 

Prince.  You  whoreson  candle-mine,  you,  how  vilely 
did  you  speak  of  me  even  now  before  this  honest, 
virtuous,  civil  gentlewoman! 

Host,  God's  blessing  of  your  good  heart !   and  so  she 

is,  by  my  troth.  320 

Fal.  Didst  thou  hear  me? 

Prince.  Yea,  and  you  knew  me,  as  you  did  when  you 
ran  away  by  Gadshill :  you  knew  I  was  at  your 
back,  and  spoke  it  on  purpose  to  try  my  pa- 
tience. 

Fal.  No,  no,  no ;  not  so ;  I  did  not  think  thou  wast 
within  hearing. 

Prince.  I  shall  drive  you  then  to  confess  the  wilful 
abuse ;   and  then  I  know  how  to  handle  you. 

Fal.  No  abuse,  Hal,  o'  mine  honour ;  no  abuse.  330 

Prince.  Not  to  dispraise  me,  and  call  me  pantler  and 
bread-chipper  and  I  know  not  what  ? 

Fal.  No  abuse,  Hal. 

Poins.  No  abuse? 

Fal.  No  abuse,  Ned,  i'  the  world ;  honest  Ned,  none. 
I  dispraised  him  before  the  wicked,  that  the 
wicked  might  not  fall  in  love  with  him ;  in  which 
doing,  I  have  done  the  part  of  a  careful  friend 
and  a  true  subject,  and  thy  father  is  to  give  me 
thanks  for  it.  No  abuse,  Hal :  none,  Ned,  none :  340 
no,  faith,  boys,  none. 

Prince.  See  now,  whether  pure  fear  and  entire  cow- 
ardice doth  not  make  thee  wrong  this  virtuous 
gentlewoman  to  close  with  us.  Is  she  of  the 
wicked?  is  thine  hostess  here  of  the  wicked?  or 
is  thy  boy  of  the  wicked?  or  honest  Bardolph, 
whose  zeal  burns  in  his  nose,  of  the  wicked? 

(>7 


Act  II.  Sc.  iv.  THE  SEXOND  PART  OF 

Poins.  Answer,  thou  dead  elm,  answer. 

Fal.  The  fiend  hath   pricked   down   Bardolph   irre- 
coverable ;     and    his    face    is    Lucifer's    privy-  350 
kitchen,  where  he  doth  nothing  but  roast  malt- 
worms.     For  the   boy,   there   is   a  good   angel 
about  him ;  but  the  devil  outbids  him  too. 

Prince.  For  the  women  ? 

Fal.  For  one  of  them,  she  is  in  hell  already,  and 
burns  poor  souls.  For  the  other,  I  owe  her 
money ;  and  whether  she  be  damned  for  that, 
I  know  not. 

Host.  No,  I  warrant  you. 

Fal.  No,  I  think  thou  art  not ;   I  think  thou  art    quit  360 
for  that.     Marry,   there   is   another   indictment 
upon  thee,  for  suffering  flesh  to  be  eaten  in  thy 
house,  contrary  to  the  law ;  for  the  which  I  think 
thou  wilt  howl. 

Host.  All  victuallers  do  so :  what 's  a  joint  of  mutton 
or  two  in  a  whole  Lent? 

Prince.  You,  gentlewoman, — 

Dot.  What  says  your  grace? 

Fal.  His    grace    says    that    which    his    flesh    rebels 

against.  370 

[Knocking  within. 

Host.  Who  knocks  so  loud  at  door?  Look  to  the 
door  there,  Francis. 

Fnter  Peto. 

Prince.  Peto,  how  now!   what  news? 

Peto.  The  king  your  father  is  at  Westminster ; 
And  there  are  twenty  weak  and  wearied  posts 
Come  from  the  north :  and,  as  I  came  along, 

68 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  II.  Sc.  iv. 

I  met  and  overtook  a  dozen  captains, 
Bare-headed,  sweating,  knocking  at  the  taverns, 
And  asking  every  one  for  Sir  John  Falstaff. 

Prince.  By  heaven,  Poins,  I  feel  me  much  to  blame,    380 
So  idly  to  profane  the  precious  time ; 
When  tempest  of  commotion,  like  the  south 
Borne  with  black  vapour,  doth  begin  to  melt. 
And  drop  upon  our  bare  unarmed  heads. 
Give  me  my  sword  and  cloak.     Falstaff,  good  night. 
[Exeunt  Prince  Henry,  Poins,  Peto,  and  Bardolph. 

FaL  Now  comes  in  the  sweetest  morsel  of  the  night, 
and  we  must  hence,  and  leave  it  unpicked. 
[Knocking  within.]   More  knocking  at  the  door ! 

Re-enter  Bardolph. 

How  now !    what 's  the  matter  ? 

Bard.  You  must  away  to  court,  sir,  presently ;  390 

A  dozen  captains  stay  at  door  for  you. 

Fal.  [To  the  Page.]  Pay  the  musicians,  sirrah. 
Farewell,  hostess  ;  farewell,  Doll.  You  see,  my 
good  wenches,  how  men  of  merit  are  sought 
after:  the  undeserver  may  sleep,  when  the  man 
of  action  is  called  on.  Farewell,  good  wenches : 
if  I  be  not  sent  away  post,*  I  will  see  you  again 
ere  I  go. 

Dol.  I  cannot  speak;    if  my  heart  be  not  ready  to 

burst, — well,  s.weet  Jack,  have  a  care  of  thyself.  400 

Fal.  Farewell,  farewell.      [Exeunt  Falstaff  and  Bardolph. 

Host.  Well,  fare  thee  well :  I  have  known  thee  these 
twenty  nine  years,  come  peacod-time;  but  an 
honester  and  truer-hearted  man, — well  fare  thee 
well. 

69 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Bard.   [Within]   Mistress  Tearsheet ! 

Host  What 's  the  matter? 

Bard,   [Within']   Bid  Mistress  Tearsheet  come  to  my 

master. 
Host.  O,   run,  Doll,  run ;    run,  good  Doll :    come.  410 

[She  comes  blubbered.]    Yea,  will  you  come,  Doll? 

[Exeunt. 

ACT  THIRD. 

Scene  I. 

Westminster.     The  palace. 

Enter  the  King  in  his  nightgozvn,  zvith  a  Page. 

King.  Go  call  the  Earls  of  Surrey  and  of  Warwick ; 
But,  ere  they  come,  bid  them  o'er-read  these  letters 
And  well  consider  of  them :  make  good  speed. 

[Exit  Page. 
How  many  thousand  of  my  poorest  subjects 
Are  at  this  hour  asleep !     O  sleep,  O  gentle  sleep, 
Nature's  soft  nurse,  how  have  I  frighted  thee. 
That  thou  no  more  wilt  weigh  my  eyelids  down. 
And  steep  my  senses  in  forgetfulness  ? 
Why  rather,  sleep,  liest  thou  in  smoky  cribs. 
Upon  uneasy  pallets  stretching  thee,  10 

And  hush'd  with  buzzing  night-flies  to  thy  slumber, 
Than  in  the  perfumed  chambers  of  the  great, 
Under  the  canopies  of  costly  state, 
And  luU'd  with  sound  of  sweetest  melody  ? 
O  thou  dull  god,  why  liest  thou  with  the  vile 
In  loathsome  beds,  and  leavest  the  kingly  couch 
A  watch-case  or  a  common  'larum-bell  ? 

70 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  III,  Sc.  i. 

Wilt  thou  upon  the  high  and  giddy  mast 

Seal  up  the  ship-boy's  eyes,  and  rock  his  brains 

In  cradle  of  the  rude  imperious  surge,  20 

And  in  the  visitation  of  the  winds, 

Who  take  the  ruffian  billows  by  the  top, 

Curling  their  monstrous  heads,  and  hanging  them 

With  deafening  clamour  in  the  sHppery  clouds, 

That,  with  the  hurly,  death  inself  awakes? 

Canst  thou,  O  partial  sleep,  give  thy  repose 

To  the  wet  set-boy  in  an  hour  so  rude; 

And  in  the  calmest  and  most  stillest  night, 

With  all  appliances  and  means  to  boot. 

Deny  it  to  a  king?     Then  happy  low,  lie  down!     30 

Uneasy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a  crown. 

Enter  Warwick  and  Surrey. 

War.  Many  good  morrows  to  your  majesty ! 

King.  Is  it  good  morrow,  lords? 

War.  'Tis  one  o'clock,  and  past. 

King.  Why,  then,  good  morrow  to  you  all,  my  lords. 
Have  you  read  o'er  the  letters  that  I  sent  you  ? 

War.  We  have,  my  liege. 

King.  Then  you  perceive  the  body  of  our  kingdom 
How  foul  it  is;    what  rank  diseases  grow. 
And  with  what  danger,  near  the  heart  of  it.  40 

War.  It  is  but  as  a  body  pet  distemper'd  ; 

Which  to  his  former  strength  may  be  restored 

With  good  advice  and  little  medicine: 

My  Lord  Northumberland  will  soon  be  cool'd. 

King.  O  God!  that  one  might  read  the  book  of  fate. 
And  see  the  revolution  of  the  times 
Make  mountains  level,  and  the  continent, 

71 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Weary  of  solid  firmness,  melt  itself 

Into  the  sea!   and,  other  times,  to  see 

The  beachy  girdle  of  the  ocean  50 

Too  wide  for  Neptune's  hips  ;  how  chances  mock 

And  changes  fill  the  cup  of  alteration 

With  divers  Hquors!     O,  if  this  were  seen, 

The  happiest  youth,  viewing  his  progress  through, 

What  perils  past,  what  crosses  to  ensue, 

Would  shut  the  book,  and  sit  him  down  and  die. 

'Tis  not  ten  years  gone 

Since  Richard  and  Northumberland,  great  friends. 

Did  feast  together,  and  in  two  years  after 

Were  they  at  wars  :   it  is  but  eight  years  since         60 

This  Percy  was  the  man  nearest  my  soul; 

Who  like  a  brother  toil'd  in  my  affairs, 

And  laid  his  love  and  life  under  my  foot; 

Yea,  for  my  sake,  even  to  the  eyes  of  Richard 

Gave  him  defiance.     But  which  of  you  was  by — 

You,  cousin  Nevil,  as  I  may  remember — 

[To  Warwick. 
When  Richard,  with  his  eye  brimful  of  tears. 
Then  check'd  and  rated  by  Northumberland, 
Did  speak  these  words,  now  proved  a  prophecy?  • 
'  Northumberland,  thou  ladder  by  the  which         70 
My  cousin  Bohngbroke  ascends  my  throne; ' 
Though  then,  God  knows,  I  had  no  such  intent, 
But  that  necessity  so  bow'd  the  state, 
That  I  and  greatness  were  compell'd  to  kiss: 
*  The  time  shall  come,'  thus  did  he  follow  it, 
'The    time    will    come,    that    foul    sin,    gathering 

head, 
Shall  break  into  corruption: '  so  went  on, 

72 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

Foretelling  this  same  time's  condition, 
And  the  division  of  our  amity. 

IVar.  There  is  a  history  in  all  men's  lives,  80 

Figuring  the  nature  of  the  times  deceased; 
The  which  observed,  a  man  may  prophesy. 
With  a  near  aim,  of  the  main  chance  of  things 
As  yet  not  come  to  life,  which  in  their  seeds 
And  weak  beginnings  lie  intreasured. 
Such  things  become  the  hatch  and  brood  of  time; 
And  by  the  necessary  form  of  this 
King  Richard  might  create  a  perfect  guess 
That  great  Northumberland,  then  false  to  him, 
Would  of  that  seed  grow  to  a  greater  falseness;     90 
Which  should  not  find  a  ground  to  root  upon. 
Unless  on  you. 

King.  Are  these  things  then  necessities? 

Then  let  us  meet  them  like  necessities 
And  that  same  word  even  now  cries  out  on  us: 
They  say  the  bishop  and  Northumberland 
Are  fifty  thousand  strong. 

War.  It  cannot  be,  my  lord; 

Rumour  doth  double,  like  the  voice  and  echo. 
The  numbers  of  the  fear'd.     Please  it  your  grace 
To  go  to  bed.     Upon  my  soul,  my  lord, 
The  powers  that  you  already  have  sent  forth       100 
Shall  bring  this  prize  in  very  easily. 
To  comfort  you  the  more,  I  have  received 
A  certain  instance  that  Glendower  is  dead. 
Your  majesty  hath  been  this  fortnight  ill; 
And  these  unseason'd  hours  perforce  must  add 
Unto  your  sickness. 

K.  Hen.  I  will  take  your  counsel 

73 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

And  were  these  inward  wars  once  out  of  hand, 
We  would,  dear  lords,  unto  the  Holy  Land. 

[Exeunt. 
Scene  II. 

Gloucestershire.     Before  Justice  Shallozv's  house. 

Enter  Shallozv  and  Silence,  meeting;    Mouldy,  Shadow, 
Wart,  Feeble,  Bullcalf,  a  Servant  or  two  zvith  them. 

Shal.  Come  on,  come  on,  come  on,  sir ;  give  me  your 
hand,  sir,  give  me  your  hand,  sir:  an  early 
stirrer,  by  the  rood!  And  how  doth  my  good 
cousin  Silence? 

Sil.  Good  morrow,  good  cousin  Shallow. 

Shal.  And  how  doth  my  cousin,  your  bedfellow?  and 
your  fairest  daughter  and  mine,  my  god-daughter 
Ellen? 

Sil.  Alas,  a  black  ousel,  cousin  Shallow! 

Shal.  By  yea  and  nay,  sir,  I  dare  say  my  cousin     lo 
William   is  become  a  good   scholar :    he  is   at 
Oxford  still,  is  he  not? 

Sil.  Indeed,  sir,  to  my  cost. 

Shal.  A'  must  then,  to  the  inns  o'  court  shortly: 
I  was  once  of  Clement's  Inn,  where  I  think 
they  will  talk  of  mad  Shallow  yet. 

Sil.  You  were  called  '  lusty  Shallow '  then,  cousin. 

Shal.  By  the  mass,  I  was  called  any  thing;  and  I 
would  have  done  any  thing  indeed  too,  and 
roundly  too.  There  was  I,  and  little  John  Doit  20 
of  Staffordshire,  and  black  George  Barnes,  and 
Francis  Pickbone,  and  Will  Squele,  a  Cotswold 
man;  you  had  not  four  such  swinge-bucklers  in 
all  the  inns  o'  court  again:  and  I  may  say  to  you, 

74 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

we  knew  where  the  bona-robas  were,  and  had  the 
best  of  them  all  at  commandment.  Then  was 
Jack  Falstaff,  now  Sir  John,  a  boy,  and  page  to 
Thomas  Mowbray,  Duke  of  Norfolk. 

^'/7.  This  Sir  John,  cousin,  that  comes  hither  anon 

about  soldiers?  30 

ShaL  The  same  Sir  John,  the  very  same.  I  see  him 
break  Skogan's  head  at  the  court-gate,  when  a' 
was  a  crack  not  thus  high :  and  the  very  same 
day  did  I  fight  with  one  Sampson  Stockfish,  a 
fruiterer,  behind  Gray's  Inn.  Jesu,  Jesu,  the 
mad  days  that  I  have  spent !  and  to  see  how 
many  of  my  old  acquaintance  are  dead ! 

Sil.  We  shall  all  follow,  cousin. 

Shal.  Certain,    'tis   certain ;    very   sure,    very   sure : 

death,  as  the  Psalmist  saith,  is  certain  to  all ;     40 
all  shall  die.     How  a  good  yoke  of  bullocks  at 
Stamford  fair? 

SiL  By  my  troth,  I  was  not  there. 

Shal.  Death  is  certain.  Is  old  Double  of  your  town 
living  yet? 

Sil.  Dead,  sir. 

Shal.  Jesu,  Jesu,  dead!  a'  drew  a  good  bow;  and 
dead !  a'  shot  a  fine  shoot :  John  a  Gaunt  loved 
him  well,  and  betted  much  monev  on  his  head. 
Dead !  a'  would  have  clapped  i'  the  clout  at  50 
twelve  score ;  and  carried  you  a  forehand  shaft 
a  fourteen  and  fourteen  and  a  half,  that  it  would 
have  done  a  man's  heart  good  to  see.  How  a 
score  of  ewes  now? 

Sil.  Thereafter  as  they  be :  a  score  of  good  ewes  may 
be  worth  ten  pounds. 

75 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Shal.  And  is  old  Double  dead? 
Sil.  Here  come  two  of  Sir  John  Falstaff's  men,  as 
I  think. 

Enter  Bardolph,  and  one  zuith  him. 

Bard.  Good  morrow,  honest  gentlemen :    I  beseech     60 
you,  which  is  Justice  Shallow? 

Shal.  I  am  Robert  Shallow,  sir ;  a  poor  esquire  of 
this  country,  and  one  of  the  king's  justices  of  the 
peace :  what  is  your  good  pleasure  with  me  ? 

Bard.  My  captain,  sir,  commends  him  to  you ;  my 
captain,  Sir  John  Falstaff,  a  tall  gentleman,  by 
heaven,  and  a  most  gallant  leader. 

Shal.  He  greets  me  well,  sir.  I  knew  him  a  good 
back-sword  man.  How  doth  the  good  knight? 
may  I  ask  how  my  lady  his  wife  doth?  70 

Bard.  Sir,  pardon ;  a  soldier  is  better  accommodated 
than  with  a  wife. 

Shal.  It  is  well  said,  in  faith,  sir ;  and  it  is  well  said 
indeed  too.  Better  accommodated !  it  is  good  ; 
yea,  indeed,  is  it :  good  phrases  are  surely,  and 
ever  were,  very  commendable.  Accommodated  ! 
it  comes  of  '  accommodo  ' :  very  good ;  a  good 
phrase. 

Bard.  Pardon    me,    sir;     I    have    heard    the    word. 

Phrase  call  you  it?  by  this  good  day,  I  know  80 
not  the  phrase;  but  I  will  maintain  the  word 
with  my  sword  to  be  a  soldier-like  word,  and 
a  word  of  exceeding  good  command,  by  heaven. 
Accommodated ;  that  is,  when  a  man  is,  as  they 
say,  accommodated :  or  when  a  man  is,  being, 
whereby  a'  may  be  thought  to  be  accommo- 
dated ;   which  is  an  excellent  thing. 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  iii.  Sc.  ii. 

Shal.  It  is  very  just. 

Enter  Falstaif, 

Look,  here  comes  good  Sir  John.     Give  me  youV 
good  hand,  give  me  your  worship's  good  hand :     90 
by  my  troth,  you  Hke  well  and  bear  your  years 
very  well :   welcome,  good  Sir  John. 

Fal.  I  am  glad  to  see  you  well,  good  Master  Robert 
Shallow :   Master  Surecard,  as  I  think  ? 

Shal.  No,  Sir  John ;  it  is  my  cousin  Silence,  in  com- 
mission with  me. 

Fal.  Good  Master  Silence,  it  well  befits  you  should 
be  of  the  peace. 

Sil.  Your  good  worship  is  welcome. 

Fal.  Fie !  this  is  hot  weather,  gentlemen.     Have  you  100 
provided  me  here  half  a  dozen  sufficient  men  ? 

Shal.  Marry,  have  we,  sir.     Will  you  sit? 

Fal.  Let  me  see  them,  I  beseech  you. 

Shal.  Where 's  the  roll?  where 's  the  roll ?  where 's 
the  roll?  Let  me  see,  let  me  see,  let  me  see. 
So,  so,  so,  so,  so,  so,  so :  yea,  marry,  sir :  Ralph 
Mouldy !  Let  them  appear  as  I  call ;  let  them 
do  so,  let  them  do  so.  Let  me  see;  where  is 
Mouldy  ? 

Moid.  Here,  an  't  please  you.  no 

Shal.  What  think  you.  Sir  John?  a  good-limbed 
fellow ;  young,  strong,  and  of  good  friends. 

Fal.  Is  thy  name  Mouldy? 

Moid.  Yea,  an  't  please  you. 

Fal.  'Tis  the  more  time  thou  wert  used. 

Shal.  Ha,  ha,  ha !  most  excellent,  i'  faith !  things  that 
are  mouldy  lack  use:  very  singular  good!  in 
faith,  well  said.  Sir  John ;   very  well  said. 

77 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Fal.  Prick  him. 

MouL  I  was  pricked  well   enough  before,   an   you  120 
could  have  let  me  alone:    my  old  dame  will  be 
undone  now,  for  one  to  do  her  husbandry  and 
her  drudgery :  you  need  not  to  have  pricked  me ; 
there  are  other  men  fitter  to  go  out  than  I. 

Fal.  Go  to :  peace,  Alouldy ;  you  shall  go.  Mouldy, 
it  is  time  you  were  spent. 

MouL  Spent! 

Shal.  Peace,  fellow,  peace;  stand  aside:  know  you 
where  you  are  ?  For  the  other,  Sir  John :  let 
me  see:   Simon  Shadow!  130 

Fal.  Yea,  marry,  let  me  have  him  to  sit  under :  he 's 
like  to  be  a  cold  soldier. 

Shal.  Where  's  Shadow  ? 

Shad.  Here,  sir. 

Fal.  Shadow,  whose  son  art  thou? 

Shad.  My  mother's  son,  sir. 

Fal.  Thy  mother's  son !  like  enough,  and  thy  father's 
shadow ;  so  the  son  of  the  female  is  the  shadow 
of  the  male :  it  is  often  so,  indeed ;  but  much  of 
the  father's  substance!  140 

Shal.  Do  you  like  him.  Sir  John? 

Fal.  Shadow  will  serve  for  summer ;  prick  him,  for 
we  have  a  number  of  shadows  to  fill  up  the 
muster-book. 

Shal.  Thomas  Wart ! 

Fal.  Where  's  he  ? 

Wart.  Here,  sir. 

Fal.  Is  thy  name  Wart? 

Wart.  Yea,  sir. 

Fal.  Thou  art  a  very  ragged  wart. 

78 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Shal.  Shall  I  prick  him  down,  Sir  John  ? 

Fal.  It  were  superfluous;    for  his  apparel  is  built 

upon  his  back,  and  the  whole  frame  stands  upon 

pins  :    prick  him  no  more. 
Shal.  Ha,  ha,  ha!   you  can  do  it,  sir;   you  can  do  it: 

I  commend  you  well.     Francis  Feeble! 
Fee.  Here,  sir. 

Shal.  What  trade  art  thou.  Feeble  ? 
Fee.  A  woman's  tailor,  sir. 

Shal.  Shall  I  prick  him,  sir?  i6o 

Fal.  You  may:    but  if  he  had  been  a  man's  tailor, 

he  'ad  ha'  pricked  you.    Wilt  thou  make  as  many 

holes  in  an  enemy's  battle  as  thou  hast  done  in  a 

woman's  petticoat? 
Fee.  I  will  do  my  good  will,  sir:    you  can  have  no 

more. 
Fal.  Well    said,    good    woman's    tailor!     well    said, 

courageous  Feeble!    thou  wilt  be  as  valiant  as 

the  wrathful  dove  or  most  magnanimous  mouse. 

Prick  the  woman's  tailor :  well,  Master  Shallow ;  170 

deep,  Master  Shallow. 
Fee.  I  would  Wart  might  have  gone,  sir. 
Fal.  I   would  thou   wert  a  man's   tailor,   that   thou 

mightst  mend  him  and  make  him  fit  to  go.     I 

cannot  put  him  to  a  private  soldier,  that  is  the 

leader  of  so  many  thousands :    let  that  suffice, 

most  forcible  Feeble. 
Fee.  It  shall  suffice,  sir. 
Fal.  I   am  bound  to   thee,   reverend   Feeble.     Who 

is  next.  *  180 

Shal.  Peter  Bullcalf  o'  the  green ! 
Fal.  Yea,  marry,  let 's  see  Bullcalf. 

79 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Bull.  Here,  sir. 

Fal.  'Fore  God,   a  likely  fellow !     Come,  prick  me 

BuUcalf  till  he  roar  again. 
Bull.  O  Lord !   good  my  lord  captain, — 
Fal.  What,  dost  thou  roar  before  thou  art  pricked  ? 
Bull.  O  Lord,  sir !     I  am  a  diseased  man. 
Fal.  What  disease  hast  thou  ? 
Bull.  A  whoreson  cold,   sir,  a  cough,   sir,   which  I   190 

caught  with  ringing  in  the  king's  affairs  upon 

his  coronation-day,  sir. 
Fal.  Come,  thou  shalt  go  to  the  wars  in  a  gown ;   we 

will  have  away  thy  cold;    and  I  will  take  such 

order  that  thy  friends  shall  ring  for  thee.     Is 

here  all  ? 
Shal.  Here  is  two  more  called  than  your  number; 

you  must  have  but  four  here,   sir:    and  so,  I 

pray  you,  go  in  with  me  to  dinner. 
Fal.  Come,  I  will  go  drink  with  you,  but  I  cannot 

tarry   dinner.     I   am   glad   to   see   you,   by   my  200 

troth,  Master  Shallow. 
SJial.  O,  Sir  John,  do  you  remember  since  we  lay  all 

night  in  the  windmill  in  Saint  George's  field  ? 
Fal.  No  more  of  that.  Good  Master  Shallow,  no  more 

of  that. 
Shal.  Ha !  'twas  a  merry  night.     And  is  Jane  Night- 
work  alive? 
Fal.  She  lives,  Master  Shallow. 
Shal.  She  never  could  away  with  me. 
Fal.  Never,  never;    she  would  always  say  she  could  210 

not  abide  Master  Shallow. 
Shal.  By  the  mass,  I  could  anger  her  to  the  heart. 
She  was  then  a  bona-roba.     Doth  she  hold  her 
own  well? 

80 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Fal  Old,  old,  Master  Shallow. 

Shal.  Nay,  she  must  be  old;  she  cannot  choose  but 
be  old ;  certain  she 's  old ;  and  had  Robin 
Nightwork  by  old  Nightwork  before  I  came  to 
Clement's  Inn. 

Sil.  That 's  fifty-five  year  ago.  220 

Shal.  Ha,  cousin  Silence,  that  thou  hadst  seen  that 
that  this  knight  and  I  have  seen!  Ha,  Sir 
John,  said  I  well? 

Fal.  We  have  heard  the  chimes  at  midnight,  Master 
Shallow. 

Shal.  That  we  have,  that  we  have,  that  we  have; 
in  faith,  Sir  John,  we  have :  our  watch-word 
was  *  Hem  boys  !  '  Come,  let 's  to  dinner;  come, 
let 's  to  dinner :  Jesus,  the  days  that  we  have 
seen!     Come,  come.  230 

[Exeunt  Falstaif  and  the  Justices. 

Bull.  Good  master  corporate  Bardolph,  stand  my 
friend ;  and  here  's  four  Harry  ten  shillings  in 
French  crowns  for  you.  In  very  truth,  sir,  I 
had  as  hef  be  hanged,  sir,  as  go:  and  yet,  for 
mine  own  part,  sir,  I  do  not  care;  but  rather, 
because  I  am  unwilling,  and,  for  mine  own  part, 
have  a  desire  to  stay  with  my  friends ;  else,  sir, 
I  did  not  care,  for  mine  own  part,  so  much. 

Bard.  Go  to ;   stand  aside. 

Moul.  And,  good  master  corporal  captain,  for  my  old  240 
dame's  sake,  stand  my  friend:    she  has  nobody 
to  do  any  thing  about  her  when  I  am  gone ;  and 
she  is  old,  and  cannot  help  herself:    you  shall 
have  forty,  sir*. 

Bard,  Go  to ;  stand  aside. 

81 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Fee,  By  my  troth,  I  care  not;  a  man  can  die  but 
once ;  we  owe  God  a  death :  I  '11  ne'er  bear  a 
base  mind :  an  't  be  my  destiny,  so ;  an  't  be 
not,  so :  no  man  's  too  good  to  serve  's  prince ; 
and  let  it  go  which  way  it  will,  he  that  dies  this  250 
year  is  quit  for  the  next. 

Bard.  Well  said ;  thou  'rt  a  good  fellow. 

Fee.  Faith,  I'll  bear  no  base  mind. 

Re-enter  Falstaif  and  the  Justices. 

Fat.  Come,  sir,  which  men  shall  I  have? 

Shal.  Four  of  which  you  please. 

Bard.  Sir,  a  word  with  you :  I  have  three  pound 
to  free  Mouldy  and  BuUcalf. 

Fal.  Go  to;   well. 

Shal.  Come,  Sir  John,  which  four  will  you  have  ? 

FaL  Do  you  choose  for  me.  260 

Shal.  Marry,  then.  Mouldy,  Bullcalf,  Feeble  and 
Shadow. 

Fal.  Mouldy  and  Bullcalf :  for  you,  Mouldy,  stay  at 
home  till  you  are  past  service :  and  for  your  part, 
Bullcalf,  grow  till  you  come  unto  it :  I  will  none 
of  you. 

Shal.  Sir  John,  Sir  John,  do  not  yourself  wrong: 
they  are  your  likeliest  men,  and  I  would  have 
you  served  with  the  best. 

Fal.  Will  you  tell  me.  Master  Shallow,  how  to  270 
choose  a  man  ?  Care  I  for  the  limb,  the  thewes, 
the  stature,  bulk,  and  big  assemblance  of  a  man ! 
Give  me  the  spirit,  Master  Shallow.  Here 's 
Wart ;  you  see  what  a  ragged  appearance  it  is : 
a'  shall  charge  you  and  discharge  you  with  the 

82 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

motion  of  a  pewterer's  hammer,  come  off  and  on 
swifter  than  he  that  gibbets  on  the  brewer's 
bucket.  And  this  same  half-faced  fellow, 
Shadow ;  give  me  this  man :  he  presents  no 
mark  to  the  enemy;  the  foeman  may  with  as  280 
great  aim  level  at  the  edge  of  a  penknife.  And 
for  a  retreat;  how  swiftly  will  this  Feeble  the 
woman's  tailor  run  off!  O,  give  me  the  spare 
men,  and  spare  me  the  great  ones.  Put  me  a 
caliver  into  Wart's  hand,  Bardolph. 

Bard.  Hold,  Wart,  traverse;   thus,  thus,  thus. 

Fal.  Come,  manage  me  your  caliver.    So :  very  well : 
go  to :  very  good,  exceeding  good.     O,  give  me 
always  a  little,  lean,  old  chapt,  bald  shot.    Well 
said,  i'  faith.  Wart ;  thou  'rt  a  good  scab :  hold,  290 
there  's  a  tester  for  thee. 

Shal.  He  is  not  his  craft's-master ;  he  doth  not  do  it 
right.  I  remember  at  Mile-end  Green,  when  I 
lay  at  Clement's  Inn, — I  was  then  Sir  Dagonet  in 
Arthur's  show, — there  was  a  little  quiver  fellow, 
and  a'  would  manage  you  his  piece  thus ;  and  a' 
would  about  and  about,  and  come  you  in  and 
come  you  in :  '  rah,  tah,  tah,'  would  a'  say ; 
'  bounce  '  would  a'  say ;  and  away  again  would 
a'  go,  and  again  would  a'  come :  I  shall  ne'er  see  300 
such  a  fellow. 

Fal.  These  fellows  will  do  well,  Master  Shallow. 
God  keep  you,  Master  Silence:  I  will  not  use 
many  words  with  you.  Fare  you  well,  gentle- 
men both  :  I  thank  you  :  I  must  a  dozen  mile  to- 
night.    Bardolph,  give  the  soldiers  coats. 

Shal.  Sir  John,  the  Lord  bless  you!     God  prosper 

83 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

your  affairs !     God  send  us  peace !     At  your  re- 
turn visit  our  house;    let  our  old  acquaintance 
be  renewed:   peradventure  I  will  with  ye  to  the  310 
court. 

fai  'Fore  God,  I  would  you  w^ould,  Master  Shallow. 

Jhal.  Go  to;    I  have  spoke  at  a  word.     God  keep 
you. 

Fal.  Fare  you  well,  gentle  gentlemen.  [Exeunt 
Justices.]  On,  Bardolph;  lead  the  men  away. 
[E.veioit  Bardolph,  Recruits,  etc.]  As  I  return, 
I  will  fetch  off  these  justices :  I  do  see  the  bot- 
tom of  Justice  Shallow.  Lord,  Lord,  how  sub- 
ject ye  old  men  are  to  this  vice  of  lying!  This  320 
same  starved  justice  hath  done  nothing  but  prate 
to  me  of  the  wildness  of  his  youth,  and  the  feats 
he  hath  done  about  Tumbull  Street ;  and  every 
third  word  a  lie,  duer  paid  to  the  hearer  than  the 
Turk's  tribute.  I  do  remember  him  at  Clement's 
Inn  like  a  man  made  after  supper  of  a  cheese- 
paring: when  a'  was  naked,  he  was,  for  all  the 
world,  like  a  forked  radish,  with  a  head  fantas- 
tically carved  upon  it  with  a  knife:  a'  was  so 
forlorn,  that  his  dimensions  to  any  thick  sight  330 
were  invisible :  a'  was  the  ver}^  genius  of  famine  ; 
yet  lecherous  as  a  monkey,  and  the  whores 
called  him  mandrake :  a'  came  ever  in  the  rear- 
ward of  the  fashion,  and  sung  those  tunes  to  the 
overscutched  huswives  that  he  heard  the  carmen 
w^histle,  and  sware  they  were  his  fancies  or  his 
good-nights.  And  now  is  this  Vice's  dagger 
become  a  squire,  and  talks  as  familiarly  of  John 
a  Gaunt  as  if  he  had  been  sworn  brother  to  him ; 

84 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

and  I  '11  be  sworn  a'  ne'er  saw  him  but  once  in  340 
the  Tilt-yard;  and  then  he  burst  his  head  for 
crowding  among  the  marshal's  men.  I  saw  it, 
and  told  John  a  Gaunt  he  beat  his  own  name ; 
for  you  might  have  thrust  him  and  all  his  apparel 
into  an  eel-skin ;  the  case  of  a  treble  houtboy 
was  a  mansion  for  him,  a  court :  and  now  has 
he  land  and  beefs.  Well,  I  '11  be  acquainted 
with  him,  if  I  return  ;  and  it  shall  go  hard  but  I 
will  make  him  a  philosopher's  two  stones  to  me : 
if  the  young  dace  be  a  bait  for  the  old  pike,  I  see  350 
no  reason  in  the  law  of  nature  but  I  may  snap 
at  him.     Let  time  shape,  and  there  an  end.       [Exit. 

ACT   FOURTH. 
Scene  I. 

Yorkshire.     Gaidtrce  Forest. 

Enter  the  Archbishop  of  York,  Mowbray, 
Hastings,  and  others. 

Arch.  What  is  this  forest  call'd? 

Hast.  'Tis  Gaultree  Forest,  an  't  shall  please  your  grace. 

Arch.  Here  stand,  my  lords ;   and  send  discoverers  forth 
To  know  the  numbers  of  our  enemies. 

Hast.  We  have  sent  forth  already. 

Arch.  'Tis  well  done. 

My  friends  and  brethren  in  these  great  affairs, 
I  must  acquaint  you  that  I  have  received 
New-dated  letters  from  Northumberland ; 
Their  cold  intent,  tenour  and  substance,  thus : 
Here  doth  he  wish  his  person,  with  such  powers     10 

85 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

As  might  hold  sortance  with  his  quality, 
The  which  he  could  not  levy ;   whereupon 
He  is  retired,  to  ripe  his  growing  fortunes. 
To  Scotland :   and  concludes  in  hearty  prayers 
That  your  attempts  may  overlive  the  hazard 
And  fearful  meeting  of  their  opposite. 
Mowb.  Thus  do  the  hopes  we  have  in  him  touch  ground 
And  dash  themselves  to  pieces. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Hast.  Now,  what  news? 

Mess.  West  of  this  forest,  scarcely  off  a  mile, 

In  goodly  form  comes  on  the  enemy ;  20 

And,  by  the  ground  they  hide,  I  judge  their  number 
Upon  or  near  the  rate  of  thirty  thousand. 

Mowb.  The  just  proportion  that  we  gave  them  out. 
Let  us  sway  on  and  face  them  in  the  field. 

Arch.  What  well-appointed  leader  fronts  us  here  ? 

Enter  Westmoreland. 

Mozvb.  I  think  it  is  my  Lord  of  Westmoreland. 

West.  Health  and  fair  greeting  from  our  general, 
The  prince.  Lord  John  and  Duke  of  Lancaster. 

Arch.  Say  on,  my  Lord  of  Westmoreland,  in  peace : 
What  doth  concern  your  coming? 

West.  Then,  my  lord,     30 

Unto  your  grace  do  I  in  chief  address 
The  substance  of  my  speech.     If  that  rebellion 
Came  like  itself,  in  base  and  abject  routs, 
Led  on  by  bloody  youth,  guarded  with  rags, 
And  countenanced  by  boys  and  beggary ; 
I  say,  if  damn'd  commotion  so  appeared, 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

In  his  true,  native  and  most  proper  shape, 
You,  reverend  father,  and  these  noble  lords 
Had  not  been  here,  to  dress  the  ugly  form 
Of  base  and  bloody  insurrection  40 

With  your  fair  honours.     You,  lord  Archbishop. 
Whose  see  is  by  a  civil  peace  maintain'd, 
Whose  beard  the  silver  hand  of  peace  hath  touch'd. 
Whose  learning  and  good  letters  peace  hath  tutor'd. 
Whose  white  investments  figure  innocence. 
The  dove  and  very  blessed  spirit  of  peace. 
Wherefore  do  you  so  ill  translate  yourself 
Out  of  the  speech  of  peace  that  bears  such  grace. 
Into  the  harsh  and  boisterous  tongue  of  war ; 
Turning  your  books  to  graves,  your  ink  to  blood,       50 
Your  pens  to  lances,  and  your  tongue  divine 
To  a  loud  trumpet  and  a  point  of  war? 
Arch.  Wherefore  do  I  this?  so  the  question  stands. 
Briefly  to  this  end:   we  are  all  diseased. 
And  with  our  surfeiting  and  wanton  hours 
Have  brought  ourselves  into  a  burning  fever, 
And  we  must  bleed  for  it;   of  which  disease 
Our  late  king,  Richard,  being  infected,  died. 
But,  my  most  noble  Lord  of  Westmoreland, 
I  take  not  on  me  here  as  a  physician,  60 

Nor  do  I  as  an  enemy  to  peace 
Troop  in  the  throngs  of  military  men; 
But  rather  show  a  while  like  fearful  war, 
To  diet  rank  minds  sick  of  happiness. 
And  purge  the  obstructions  which  begin  to  stop 
Our   very  veins  of  life.     Hear  m^  more  plainly. 
I  have  in  equal  balance  justly  weigh'd 
What  wrongs  our  arms  may  do,  what  wrongs  we  sufifer, 

87 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

And  find  our  griefs  heavier  than  our  offences. 

We  see  which  way  the  stream  of  time  doth  run,      70 

And  are  enforced  from  our  most  quiet  there 

By  the  rough  torrent  of  occasion; 

And  have  the  summary  of  all  our  griefs, 

When  time  shall  serve,  to  show  in  articles; 

Which  long  ere  this  we  offer'd  to  the  king, 

And  might  by  no  suit  gain  our  audience: 

When  we  are  wrong'd  and  would  unfold  our  griefs, 

We  are  denied  access  unto  his  person 

Even  by  those  men  that  most  have  done  us  wrong. 

The  dangers  of  the  days  but  newly  gone,  80 

Whose  memory  is  wfitten  on  the  earth 

With  yet  appearing  blood,  and  the  examples 

Of  every  minute's  instance,  present  now, 

Hath  put  us  in  these  ill-beseeming  arms. 

Not  to  break  peace  or  any  branch  of  it, 

But  to  establish  here  a  peace  indeed, 

Concurring  both  in  name  and  quality. 

West.  When  ever  yet  was  your  appeal  denied? 
Wherein  have  you  been  galled  by  the  king? 
What  peer  hath  been  suborn'd  to  grate  on  you,     90 
That  you  should  seal  this  lawless  bloody  book 
Of  forged  rebellion  with  a  seal  divine. 
And  consecrate  commotion's  bitter  edge? 

Aj'ch.  My  brother  general,  the  commonwealth, 
To  brother  born  an  household  cruelty, 
I  make  my  quarrel  in  particular. 

West.  There  is  no  need  of  any  such  redress; 
Or  if  there  were,  it  not  belongs  to  you. 

Mowb  Why  not  to  him  in  part,  and  to  us  all 

That  feel  the  bruises  of  the  davs  before,  100 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

And  suffer  the  condition  of  these  times 
To  lay  a  heavy  and  unequal  hand 
Upon  our  honours? 

West.  O,  my  good  Lord  Mowbray, 

Construe  the  times  to  their  necessities, 
And  you  shall  say  indeed,  it  is  the  time, 
And  not  the  king,  that  doth  you  injuries. 
Yet  for  your  part,  it  not  appears  to  me 
Either  from  the  king  or  in  the  present  time 
That  you  should  have  an  inch  of  any  ground 
To  build  a  grief  on:   were  you  not  restored         no 
To  all  the  Duke  of  Norfolk's  signories, 
Your  noble  and  right  well  remember'd  father's? 

Mozvb.  What  thing,  in  honour,  had  my  father  lost, 
That  need  to  be  revived  and  breathed  in  me? 
The  king  that  loved  him,  as  the  state  stood  then, 
Was  force  perforce  compell'd  to  banish  him: 
And  then  that  Henry  Bolingbroke  and  he. 
Being  mounted  and  both  roused  in  their  seats, 
Their  neighing  coursers  daring  of  the  spur,  119 

Their  armed  staves  in  charge,  their  beavers  down, 
Their  eyes  of  fire  sparkling  through  sights  of  steel 
And  the  loud  trumpet  blowing  them  together, 
Then,  then,  when  there  was  nothing  could  have  stay'd 
j\Iy  father  from  the  breast  of  Bolingbroke, 
O,  when  the  king  did  throw  his  warder  down. 
His  own  life  hung  upon  the  staff  he  threw; 
Then  threw  he  down  himself  and  all  their  lives 
That  by  indictment  and  by  dint  of  sword 
Have  since  miscarried  under  Bolingbroke, 

West.  You  speak,  Lord  Mowbray,  now  you  know  not 
what.  130 

89 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

The  Earl  of  Hereford  was  reputed  then 

In  England  the  most  valiant  gentleman: 

Who   knows    on    whom    fortune    would   then    have 

smiled? 
But  if  your  father  had  been  victor  there, 
He  ne'er  had  borne  it  out  of  Coventry : 
For  all  the  country  in  a  general  voice 
Cried  hate  upon  him ;  and  all  their  prayers  and  love 
Were  set  on  Hereford,  whom  they  doted  on 
And  bless'd  and  graced  indeed,  more  than  the  king. 
But  this  is  mere  digression  from  my  purpose.  140 

Here  come  I  from  our  princely  general 
To  know  your  griefs;   to  tell  you  from  his  grace 
That  he  will  give  you  audience;   and  wherein 
It  shall  appear  that  your  demands  are  just, 
You  shall  enjoy  them,  every  thing  set  off 
That  might  so  much  as  think  you  enemies. 

Mowh.  But  he  hath  forced  us  to  compel  this  offer ; 
And  it  proceeds  from  policy,  not  love. 

West.  Mowbray,  you  overween  to  take  it  so; 

This  offer  comes  from  mercy,  not  from  fear:         150 
For,  lo !  within  a  ken  our  army  lies. 
Upon  mine  honour,  all  too  confident 
To  give  admittance  to  a  thought  of  fear. 
Our  battle  is  more  full  of  names  than  yours, 
Our  men  more  perfect  in  the  use  of  arms. 
Our  armour  all  as  strong,  our  cause  the  best; 
Then  reason  will  our  hearts  should  be  as  good: 
Say  you  not  then  our  offer  is  compell'd. 

Mowh.  Well,  by  my  will  we  shall  admit  no  parley. 

West.  That  argues  but  the  shame  of  your  offence:      160 
A  rotten  case  abides  no  handling. 

90 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

Hast.  Hath  the  Prince  John  a  full  commission, 
In  every  ample  virtue  of  his  father. 
To  hear  and  absolutely  to  determine 
Of  what  conditions  we  shall  stand  .upon? 

West.  That  is  intended  in  the  general's  name: 
I  muse  you  make  so  slight  a  question. 

Arch.  Then    take,    my    Lord    of    Westmoreland,    this 
schedule, 
For  this  contains  our  general  grievances: 
Each  several  article  herein  redress'd,  170 

All  members  of  our  cause,  both  here  and  hence, 
That  are  insinewed  to  this  action. 
Acquitted  by  a  true  substantial  form, 
And  present  execution  of  our  wills 
To  us  and  to  our  purposes  confined. 
We  come  within  our  awful  banks  again. 
And  knit  our  powers  to  the  arm  of  peace. 

West.  This  will  I  show  the  general.     Please  you,  lords. 
In  sight  of  both  our  battles  we  may  meet; 
And  either  end  in  peace,  which  God  so  frame!      180 
Or  to  the  place  of  difference  call  the  swords 
Which  must  decide  it. 

Arch.  My  lord,  we  will  do  so.      [Exit  West. 

Mowb.  There  is  a  thing  within  my  bosoui  tells  me 
That  no  conditions  of  our  peace  can  stand. 

Hasf.  Fear  you  not  that:  if  we  can  make  our  peace 
Upon  such  large  terms  and  so  absolute 
As  our  conditions  shall  consist  upon, 
Our  peace  shall  stand  as  firm  as  rocky  mountains. 

Mowb.  Yea,  but  our  valuation  shall  be  such 

That  every  slighc  and  false-derived  cause,  190 

Yea,  every  idle,  nice  and  wanton  reason 
Shall  to  the  king  taste  of  this  action; 

91 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

That,  were  our  royal  faiths  martyrs  in  love, 
We  shall  be  winnow'd  with  so  rough  a  wind 
That  even  our  corn  shall  seem  as  light  as  chaff 
And  good  from  bad  find  no  partition. 

Aixh.  No,  no,  my  lord.     Note  this;  the  king  is  weary 
Of  dainty  and  such  picking  grievances : 
For  he  hath  found  to  end  one  doubt  by  death 
Revives  two  greater  in  the  heirs  of  life,  200 

And  therefore  will  he  wipe  his  tables  clean, 
And  keep  no  tell-tale  to  his  memory 
That  may  repeat  and  history  his  loss 
To  new  remembrance;    for  full  well  he  knows 
He  cannot  so  precisely  weed  this  land 
As  his  misdoubts  present  occasion: 
His  foes  are  so  enrooted  with  his  friends 
That,  plucking  to  unfix  an  enemy, 
He  doth  unfasten  so  and  shake  a  friend. 
So  that  this  land,  like  an  offensive  wife  210 

That  hath  enraged  him  on  to  offer  strokes. 
As  he  is  striking,  holds  his  infant  up, 
And  hangs  resolved  correction  in  the  arm 
That  was  uprear'd  to  execution, 

Hast.  Besides,  the  king  hath  wasted  all  his  rods 
On  late  offenders,  that  he  now  doth  lack 
The  very  instruments  of  chastisement 
So  that  his  power,  like  to  a  fangless  lion. 
May  offer,  but  not  hold. 

Arch.  'Tis  very  true : 

And  therefore  be  assured,  my  good  lard  marshal, 
If  we  do  now  make  our  atonement  well,  221 

Our  peace  will,  like  a  broken  limb  united. 
Grow  stronger  for  the  breaking. 

92 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  IV.  Sc.  ii. 

Mowh.  Be  it  so. 

Here  is  return'd  my  Lord  of  Westmoreland. 

Re-enter  Westmoreland. 

West.  The  prince  is  here  at  hand :   pleaseth  your  lordship 

To  meet  his  grace  just  distance  'tween  our  armies. 
Mozi'b.  Your  grace  of  York,  in  God's  name,  then,   set 

forward. 
Arch.  Before,  and  greet  his  grace :  my  lord,  we  come. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene  II. 

Another  part  of  the  forest. 

Enter,  from  one  side,  Mozvbray,  attended;  afterzvards, 
the  Archbishop ;  Hastings,  and  others:  from  the 
other  side,  Prince  John  of  Lancaster,  and  Westmore- 
land;  OiHcers,  and  others  with  them. 

Lan.  You  are  well  encounter'd  here,  my  cousin  Mowbray : 
Good  day  to  you,  gentle  lord  archbishop ; 
And  so  to  you,  Lord  Hastings,  and  to  all- 
My  Lord  of  York,  it  better  show'd  with  you 
When  that  your  flock,  assembled  by  the  bell, 
Encircled  you  to  hear  with  reverence 
Your  exposition  on  the  holy  text. 
Than  now  to  see  you  here  an  iron  man, 
Cheering  a  rout  of  rebels  with  your  drum. 
Turning  the  word  to  sword  and  life  to  death.  lo 

That  man  that  sits  within  a  monarch's  heart. 
And  ripens  in  the  sunshine  of  his  favour, 
Would  he  abuse  the  countenance  of  the  king. 
Alack,  what  mischiefs  might  he  set  abroach 

93 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

In  shadow  of  such  greatness  !    With  you,  lord  bishop, 

It  is  even  so.     Who  hath  not  heard  it  spoken 

How  deep  you  were  within  the  books  of  God? 

To  us  the  speaker  in  his  parHament ; 

To  us  the  imagined  voice  of  God  himself ; 

The  very  opener  and  intelligencer  20 

Between  the  grace,  the  sanctities  of  heaven 

And  our  dull  workings.     O,  who  shall  believe 

But  you  misuse  the  reverence  of  your  place. 

Employ  the  countenance  and  grace  of  heaven, 

As  a  false  favourite  doth  his  prince's  name, 

In  deeds  dishonourable?     You  have  ta'en  up. 

Under  the  counterfeited  zeal  of  God, 

The  subjects  of  his  substitute,  my  father, 

And  both  against  the  peace  of  heaven  and  him 

Have  here  up-swarm'd  them. 

Arch.  Good  my  Lord  of  Lancaster,     30 

I  am  not  here  against  your  father's  peace ; 
But,  as  I  told  my  Lord  of  Westmoreland, 
The  time  misorder'd  doth,  in  common  sense. 
Crowd  us  and  crush  us  to  this  monstrous  form, 
To  hold  our  safety  up.  I  sent  your  grace 
The  parcels  and  particulars  of  our  grief. 
The  which  hath  been  with  scorn  shoved  from  the 

court, 
Whereon  this  Hydra  son  of  war  is  born ; 
Whose  dangerous  eyes  may  well  be  charm'd  asleep 
With  grant  of  our  most  just  and  right  desires,      40 
And  true  obedience,  of  this  madness  cured. 
Stoop  tamely  to  the  foot  of  majesty. 

Mowh.  If  not,  we  ready  are  to  try  our  fortunes 
To  the  last  man. 

94 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  IV.  Sc.  ii. 

Hast,  And  though  we  here  fall  down, 

We  have  supplies  to  second  our  attempt : 
If  they  miscarry,  theirs  shall  second  them  ; 
And  so  success  of  mischief  shall  be  born, 
And  heir  from  heir  shall  hold  this  quarrel  up, 
Whiles  England  shall  have  generation.  49 

Lan.  You  are  too  shallow,  Hastings,  much  too  shallow, 
To  sound  the  bottom  of  the  after-times. 

West.  Pleaseth  your  grace  to  answer  them  directly 
How  far  forth  you  do  like  their  articles. 

Lan.  I  like  them  all,  and  do  allow  them  well ; 
And  swear  here,  by  the  honour  of  my  blood, 
My  father's  purposes  have  been  mistook ; 
And  some  about  him  have  too  lavishly 
Wrested  his  meaning  and  authority. 
My  lord,  these  griefs  shall  be  with  speed  redress'd ; 
Upon  my  soul,  they  shall.     If  this  may  please  you, 
Discharge  your  powers  unto  their  several  counties. 
As  we  will  ours  :   and  here  between  the  armies        62 
Let 's  drink  together  friendly  and  embrace. 
That  all  their  eyes  may  bear  those  tokens  home 
Of  our  restored  love  and  amity. 

Arch.  I  take  your  princely  word  for  these  redresses. 

Lan.  I  give  it  you,  and  will  maintain  my  word: 
And  thereupon  I  drink  unto  your  grace. 

Hast.  Go,  captain,  and  deliver  to  the  army  69 

This  news  of  peace :  let  them  have  pay,  and  part : 
I  know  it  will  well  please  them.     Hie  thee,  captain. 

[Exit  OMcer, 

Arch.  To  you,  my  noble  Lord  of  Westmoreland. 

IVest,  I  pledge  your  grace ;  and,  if  you  knew  what  pains 
I  have  bestow'd  to  breed  this  present  peace, 

95 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

You  would  drink  freely :   but  my  love  to  ye 

Shall  show  itself  more  openly  hereafter. 
Arch.  I  do  not  doubt  you. 
West.  I  am  glad  of  it. 

Health  to  my  lord  and  gentle  cousin,  Mowbray. 
Mowb.  You  wish  me  health  in  very  happy  season ; 

For  I  am,  on  the  sudden,  something  ill.  80 

Arch.  Against  ill  chances  men  are  ever  merry ; 

But  heaviness  foreruns  the  good  event. 
West.  Therefore  be  merry,  coz ;  since  sudden  sorrow 

Serves  to  say  thus, '  some  good  thing  comes  to-morrow  ?' 
Arch.  Believe  me,  I  am  passing  light  in  spirit. 
Mowb.  So  much  the  worse,  if  your  own  rule  be  true. 

[Shouts  zvithin. 
Lan.  The  word  of  peace  is  render'd :  hark,  how  they  shout  1 
Mozvb.  This  had  been  cheerful  after  victory. 
Arch.  A  peace  is  of  the  nature  of  a  conquest ; 

For  then  both  parties  nobly  are  subdued,  90 

And  neither  party  loser. 
Lan.  Go,  my  lord. 

And  let  our  army  be  discharged  too. 

[Exit  Westmoreland. 

And,  good  my  lord,  so  please  you,  let  our  trains 

March  by  us,  that  we  may  peruse  the  men 

We  should  have  coped  withal. 
Arch.  Go,  good  Lord  Hastings. 

And,  ere  they  be  dismissed,  let  them  march  by. 

[Exit  Hastings. 
Lan.  I  trust,  lords,  we  shall  lie  to-night  together. 

Re-enter  Westmoreland. 

Now,  cousin,  wherefore  stands  our  army  still? 
96 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  IV.  Sc.  ii. 

West.  The  leaders,  having  charge  from  you  to  stand, 

Will  not  go  off  until  they  hear  you  speak.  lOO 

Lan.  They  know  their  duties. 

Re-enter  Hastings. 

Hast.  My  lord,  our  army  is  dispersed  already : 

Like  youthful  steers  unyoked,  they  take  their  courses 
East,  west,  north,  south ;  or,  like  a  school  broke  up, 
Each  hurries  toward  his  home  and  sporting-place. 

West.  Good  tidings,  my  Lord  Hastings  ;  for  the  which 
I  do  arrest  thee,  traitor,  of  high  treason : 
And  you,  lord  archbishop,  and  you,  Lord  Mowbray, 
Of  capital  treason  I  attach  you  both. 

Mowh.  Is  this  proceeding  just  and  honourable?  no 

West.  Is  your  assembly  so? 

Arch.  Will  you  thus  break  your  faith  ?  , 

-^o«.  I  pawn'd  thee  none : 

I  promised  you  redress  of  these  same  grievances 
Whereof  you  did  complain ;   which,  by  mine  honour, 
I  will  perform  with  a  most  Christian  care. 
But  for  you,  rebels,  look  to  taste  the  due 
Meet  for  rebellion  and  such  acts  as  yours. 
Most  shallowly  did  you  these  arms  commence. 
Fondly  brought  here  and  foolishly  sent  hence. 
Strike  up  our  drums,  pursue  the  scatter'd  stray :    120 
God,  and  not  we,  hath  safely  fought  to-day. 
Some  guard  these  traitors  to  the  block  of  death. 
Treason's  true  bed  and  yielder  up  of  breath. 

[Exeunt. 


97 


Act  IV.  Sc.  Hi.  THE  SECOND  PAR'^  C^ 

Scene  III. 

Another  part  of  the  forest. 

Alarum.     Excursions.     Enter  Falstaff  and  Colevile, 
meeting. 

Fal.  What 's  your  name,  sir  ?  of  what  condition  are 
you,  and  of  what  place,  I  pray? 

Cole.  I  am  a  knight,  sir ;  and  my  name  is  Colevile  of 
the  dale. 

fal.  Well,  then,  Colevile  is  your  name,  a  knight  is 
your  degree,  and  your  place  the  dale :  Colevile 
shall  be  still  your  name,  a  traitor  your  degree, 
and  the  dungeon  your  place,  a  place  deep 
enough ;  so  shall  you  be  still  Colevile  of  the 
dale.  10 

Cole.  Are  not  you  Sir  John  Falstaff  ? 

Fal.  "As  good  a  man  as  he,  sir,  whoe'er  I  am.  Do  ye 
yield,  sir?  or  shall  I  sweat  for  you?  If  I  do 
sweat,  they  are  the  drops  of  thy  lovers,  and  they 
weep  for  thy  death :  therefore  rouse  up  fear  and 
trembling,  and  do  observance  to  my  mercy. 

Cole.  I  think  you  are  Sir  John  Falstaff,  and  in  that 
thought  yield  me. 

Fal.  I  have  a  whole  school  of  tongues  in  this  belly 

of  mine,  and  not  a  tongue  of  them  all  speaks  any     20 
other  word  but  my  name.     An  I  had  but  a  belly 
of  any  indifferency,  I  were  simply  the  most  active 
fellow  in   Europe:    my  womb,   my  womb,   my 
womb,  undoes  me.     Here  comes  our  general. 

Enter  Prince  John  of  Lancaster,   Westmoreland, 
Blunt,  and  others, 
l^an.  The  heat  is  past ;   follow  no  further  now: 

08 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii. 

Call  in  the  powers,  good  cousin  Westmoreland. 

[Exit  Westmoreland. 
Now,     Falstaff,    where    have    you    been    all    this 

while  ? 
When  every  thing  is  ended,  then  you  come : 
These  tardy  tricks  of  yours  will,  on  my  Hfe, 
One  time  or  other  break  some  gallows'  back.  30 

FaL  I  would  be  sorry,  my  lord,  but  it  should  be 
thus:  I  never  knew  yet  but  rebuke  and  check 
was  the  reward  of  valour.  Do  you  think  me  a 
swallow,  an  arrow,  or  a  bullet?  have  I,  in  my 
poor  and  old  motion,  the  expedition  of  thought  ? 
I  have  speeded  hither  with  the  very  extremest 
inch  of  possibility ;  I  have  foundered  nine  score 
and  odd  posts :  and  here,  travel-tainted  as  I  am, 
have,  in  my  pure  and  immaculate  valour,  taken 
Sir  John  Colevile  of  the  dale,  a  most  furious  40 
knight  and  valorous  enemy.  But  what  of  that  ? 
he  saw  me,  and  yielded;  that  I  may  justly  say, 
with  the  hook-nosed  fellow  of  Rome,  '  I  came, 
saw,  and  overcame.' 

Lan.  It  was  more  of  his  courtesy  that  your  deserving. 

FqI.  I  know  not :  here  he  is,  and  here  I  yield  him : 
and  I  beseech  your  grace,  let  it  be  booked  with 
the  rest  of  this  day's  deeds ;  or,  by  the  Lord,  I 
will  have  it  in  a  particular  ballad  else,  with  mine 
own  picture  on  the  top  on  't,  Colevile  kissing  my  50 
foot :  to  the  which  course  if  I  be  enforced,  if 
you  do  not  all  show  like  gilt  two-pences  to  me, 
and  I  in  the  clear  sky  of  fame  o'ershine  you  as 
much  as  the  full  moon  doth  the  cinders  of  the 
element,   which   show   like  pins'  heads  to  her, 

99 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

believe  not  the  word  of  the  noble :   therefore  let 

me  have  right,  and  let  desert  mount. 
Lan.  Thine  's  too  heavy  to  mount. 
Fal.  Let  it  shine,  then. 

Lan.  Thine  's  too  thick  to  shine.  60 

Fal.  Let  it  do  something,  my  good  lord,  that  may  do 

me  good,  and  call  it  what  you  will. 
Lan.  Is  thy  name  Colevile  ? 
Cole,  It  is,  my  lord. 

Lan,  A  famous  rebel  art  thou,  Colevile? 
Fal.  And  a  famous  true  subject  took  him. 
Cole.  I  am,  my  lord,  but  as  my  betters  are, 

That  led  me  hither :   had  they  been  ruled  by  me. 

You  should  have  won  them  dearer  than  you  have. 
Fal.  I  know  not  how  they  sold  themselves :   but  thou,  70 

like  a  kind  fellow,  gavest  thyself  away  gratis; 

and  I  thank  thee  for  thee. 

Re-enter  Westmoreland. 

Lan.  Now,  have  you  left  pursuit? 

West.  Retreat  is  made  and  execution  stay'd. 

Lan.  Send  Colevile  with  his  confederates 
To  York,  to  present  execution : 
Blunt,  lead  him  hence ;   and  see  you  guard  him  sure. 
[Exeunt  Blunt  and  others  zvith  Colvile. 
And  now  dispatch  we  toward  the  court,  my  lords : 
I  hear  the  king  my  father  is  sore  siclc : 
Our  news  shall  go  before  us  to  his  majesty,  80 

Which,  cousin,  you  shall  bear  to  comfort  him ; 
And  we  with  sober  speed  will  follow  you. 

Fal.  My  lord,  I  beseech  you,  give  me  leave  to  go 

Through  Gloucestershire:    and,  when  you  come  to 
court, 

100 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii. 

Stand  my  good  lord,  pray,  in  your  good  report. 

Lan.  Fare  you  well,  Falstaff :   I,  in  my  condition, 
Shall  better  speak  of  you  than  you  deserve. 

[Exeunt  all  except  Falstaff. 

Fal.  I  would  you  had  but  the  wit :  'twere  better  than 
your  dukedom.  Good  faith,  this  same  young 
sober-blooded  boy  doth  not  love  me ;  nor  a  man  90 
cannot  make  him  laugh ;  but  that 's  no  marvel, 
he  drinks  no  wine.  There  's  never  none  of  these 
demure  boys  come  to  any  proof ;  for  thin  drink 
doth  so  over-cool  their  blood,  and  making  many 
fish-meals,  that  they  fall  into  a  kind  of  male 
green-sickness;  and  then,  when  they  marry, 
they  get  wenches :  they  are  generally  fools  and 
cowards;  which  some  of  us  should  be  too,  but 
for  inflammation.  A  good  sherris-sack  hath  a 
two-fold  operation  in  it.  It  ascends  me  into  the  too 
brain;  dries  me  there  all  the  foolish  and  dull 
and  crudy  vapours  which  environ  it;  makes  it 
apprehensive,  quick,  forgetive,  full  of  nimble, 
fiery  and  delectable  shapes ;  which,  delivered 
o'er  to  the  voice,  the  tongue,  which  is  the  birth, 
becomes  excellent  wit.  The  second  property 
of  your  excellent  sherris  is,  the  warming  of  the 
blood;  which,  before  cold  and  settled,  left  the 
liver  white  and  pale,  which  is  the  badge  of 
pusillanimity  and  cowardice;  but  the  sherris  no 
warms  it  and  makes  it  course  from  the  inwards 
to  the  parts  extreme:  it  illumineth  the  face, 
which  as  a  beacon  gives  warning  to  all  the  rest 
of  this  little  kingdom,  man,  to  arm ;  and  then 
the   vital   commoners   and   inland   petty   spirits 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

muster  me  all  to  their  captain,  the  heart,  who, 
great  and  pufifed  up  with  this  retinue,  doth  any 
deed  of  courage ;  and  this  valour  comes  of  sher- 
ris.  So  that  skill  in  the  weapon  is  nothing  with- 
out sack,  for  that  sets  it  a-work ;  and  learning  a  120 
mere  hoard  of  gold  kept  by  a  devil,  till  sack  com- 
mences it  and  sets  it  in  act  and  use.  Hereof 
comes  it  that  Prince  Harry  is  valiant;  for  the 
cold  blood  he  did  naturally  inherit  of  his  father, 
he  hath,  like  lean  sterile  and  bare  land,  manured, 
husbanded  and  tilled  with  excellent  endeavour  of 
drinking  good  and  good  store  of  fertile  sherris, 
that  he  is  become  very  hot  and  valiant.  If  I 
had  a  thousand  sons,  the  first  humane  principle 
I  would  teach  them  should  be,  to  forswear  thin  130 
potations,  and  to  addict  themselves  to  sack. 

Enter  Bardolph, 

How  now,  Bardolph  ? 

Bard.  The  army  is  discharged  all  and  gone. 

Fal.  Let  them  go.  I  '11  through  Gloucestershire ; 
and  there  will  I  visit  Master  Robert  Shallow, 
esquire :  I  have  him  already  tempering  between 
my  finger  and  my  thumb,  and  shortly  will  I  seal 
with  him.     Come  away.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  IV. 

Westminster.     The  Jerusalem  Chamber. 

Enter  the  King,  the  Princes  Thomas  of  Clarence  and 
Humphrey  of  Gloucester,  Warwick,  and  others. 
King.  Now,  lords,  if  God  doth  give  successful  end 
To  this  debate  that  bleedeth  at  our  doors. 

102 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

We  will  our  youth  lead  on  to  higher  fields 

And  draw  no  swords  but  what  are  sanctified. 

Our  navy  is  address'd,  our  power  collected, 

Our  substitutes  in  absence  well  invested, 

And  every  thing  lies  level  to  our  wish: 

Only,  we  w^ant  a  little  personal  strength; 

And  pause  us,  till  these  rebels,  now  afoot. 

Come  underneath  the  yoke  of  government.  lo 

War.  Both  which  we  doubt  not  but  your  majesty 
Shall  soon  enjoy. 

King.  Humphrey,  my  son  of  Gloucester, 

Where  is  the  prince  your  brother? 

Gloii.  I  think  he  's  gone  to  hunt,  my  lord,  at  Windsor. 

King.  And  how  accompanied? 

Glou.  I  do  not  know,  my  lord. 

King.  Is  not  his  brother,  Thomas  of  Clarence,  with  him? 

Clou.  No,  my  good  lord,  he  is  in  presence  here. 

Clai'.  What  would  my  lord  and  father? 

King.  Nothing  but  well  to  thee,  Thomas  of  Clarence.     19 
How  chance  thou  art  not  with  the  prince  thy  brother  ? 
He  loves  thee,  and  thou  dost  neglect  him,  Thomas; 
Thou  hast  a  better  place  in  his  affection 
Than  all  thy  brothers:    cherish  it,  my  boy, 
And  noble  offices  thou  mayst  effect 
Of  mediation,  after  I  am  dead. 
Between  his  greatness  and  thy  other  brethren : 
Therefore  omit  him  not;  blunt  not  his  love, 
Nor  lose  the  good  advantage  of  his  grace 
By  seeming  cold  or  careless  of  his  will; 
For  he  is  gracious,  if  he  be  observed:  30 

He  hath  a  tear  for  pity,  and  a  hand 
Open  as  day  for  melting  charity: 

103 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Yet  notwithstanding,  being  incensed,  he  's  flint, 
As  humorous  as  winter,  and  as  sudden 
As  flaws  congealed  in  the  spring  of  day. 
His  temper,  therefore,  must  be  well  observed: 
Chide  him  for  faults,  and  do  it  reverently. 
When  you  perceive  his  blood  incHned  to  mirth; 
But,  being  moody,  give  him  line  and  scope, 
Till  that  his  passions,  Hke  a  whale  on  ground,     40 
Confound  themselves  with  working.       Learn  this, 

Thomas, 
And  thou  shalt  prove  a  shelter  to  thy  friends, 
A  hoop  of  gold  to  bind  thy  brothers  in, 
That  the  united  vessel  of  their  blood. 
Mingled  with  venom  of  suggestion — 
As,  force  perforce,  the  age  will  pour  it  in — 
Shall  never  leak,  though  it  do  work  as  strong 
As  aconitum  or  rash  gunpowder. 

Clar.  I  shall  observe  him  with  all  care  and  love. 

King.    Why    art    thou    not     at     Windsor    with     him, 
Thomas? 

Clar.  He  is  not  there  to-day;   he  dines  in  London.  51 

King.  And  how  accompanied?  canst  thou  tell  that? 

Clar.  With  Poins,  and  other  his  continual  followers. 

King.  Most  subject  is  the  fattest  soil  to  weeds; 
And  he,  the  noble  image  of  my  youth. 
Is  overspread  with  them:   therefore  my  grief 
Stretches  itself  beyond  the  hour  of  death: 
The  blood  weeps  from  my  heart  when  I  do  shape, 
In  forms  imaginary,  the  unguided  days 
And  rotten  times  that  you  shall  look  upon,  60 

When  I  am  sleeping  with  my  ancestors. 
For  when  his  headstrong  riot  hath  no  curb, 
104 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

When  rage  and  hot  blood  are  his  counsellors, 
When  means  and  lavish  manners  meet  together, 
O,  with  what  wings  shall  his  affections  fly 
Towards  fronting  peril  and  opposed  decay ! 

War.  My  gracious  lord,  you  look  beyond  him  quite : 
The  prince  but  studies  his  companions 
Like  a  strange  tongue,  wherein,  to  gain  the  language, 
'Tis  needful  that  the  most  immodest  word  70 

Be  look'd  upon  and  learn'd ;   which  once  attain'd. 
Your  highness  knows,  comes  to  no  further  use 
But  to  be  known  and  hated.    So,  like  gross  terms, 
The  prince  will  in  the  perfectness  of  time 
Cast  off  his  followers ;  and  in  their  memory 
Shall  as  a  pattern  or  a  measure  live. 
By  which  his  grace  must  mete  the  lives  of 'Others, 
Turning  past  evils  to  advantages. 

King.  'Tis  seldom  when  the  bee  doth  leave  her  comb 
In  the  dead  carrion. 

Enter  Westmoreland. 

Who's  here?     Westmoreland?     80 
West.  Health  to  my  sovereign,  and  new  happiness 
Added  to  that  that  I  am  to  deliver ! 
Prince  John  your  son  doth  kiss  your  grace's  hand : 
Mowbray,  the  Bishop  Scroop,  Hastings  and  all 
Are  brought  to  the  correction  of  your  law  ; 
There  is  not  now  a  rebel's  sword  unsheathed. 
But  Peace  puts  forth  her  olive  every  where. 
The  manner  how  this  action  hath  been  borne 
Here  at  more  leisure  may  your  highness  read, 
With  every  course  in  his  particular.  90 

King.  O  Westmoreland,  thou  art  a  summer  bird, 

105 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Which  ever  in  the  haunch  of  winter  sings 
The  Hfting  up  of  day. 

Enter  Harcourt. 

Look,  here  's  more  news. 

Har,  From  enemies  heaven  keep  your  majesty; 

And,  when  they  stand  against  you,  may  they  fall 

As  those  that  I  am  come  to  tell  you  of ! 

The  Earl  Northumberland  and  the  Lord  Bardolph, 

With  a  great  power  of  English  and  of  Scots, 

Are  by  the  sheriff  of  Yorkshire  overthrown : 

The  manner  and  true  order  of  the  fight,  too 

This  packet,  please  it  you,  contains  at  large. 

King.  And  wherefore  should  these  good  news  make  me  sicK  ^ 
Will  Fortune  never  come  with  both  hands  full, 
But  write  her  fair  words  still  in  foulest  letters  ? 
She  either  gives  a  stomach  and  no  food ; 
Such  are  the  poor,  in  health ;  or  else  a  feast 
And  takes  away  the  stomach :   such  are  the  rich, 
That  have  abundance  and  enjoy  it  not. 
I  should  rejoice  now  at  this  happy  news ; 
And  now  my  sight  fails,  and  my  brain  is  giddy :      no 
O  me !   come  near  me ;  now  I  am  much  ill. 

Glou.  Comfort,  your  majesty! 

Clar.  O  my  royal  father ! 

West,  My  sovereign  lord,  cheer  up  yourself,  look  up. 

War.  Be  patient,  princes ;  you  do  know,  these  fits 
Are  with  his  highness  very  ordinary. 
Stand  from  him,  give  him  air ;  he  '11  straight  be  well. 

Clar.  No,  no,  he  cannot  long  hold  out  these  pangs : 
The  incessant  care  and  labour  of  his  mind 
Hath  wrought  the  mure,  that  should  confine  it  in, 
io6 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  IV.  Sc.  v. 

So  thin  that  life  looks  through  and  will  break  out. 
Gloii.  The  people  fear  me  ;  for  they  do  observe  121 

Unfather'd  heirs  and  loathly  births  of  nature : 

The  seasons  change  their  manners,  as  the  year 

Had  found  some  months  asleep  and  leap'd  them  over. 
Clar.  The  river  hath  thrice  flow'd,  no  ebb  between ; 

And  the  old  folk,  time's  doting  chronicles. 

Say  it  did  so  a  little  time  before 

That  our  great-grandsire,  Edward,  sick'd  and  died. 
War.  Speak  lower,  princes,  for  the  king  recovers. 
Glott.  This  apoplexy  w^ill  certain  be  his  end.  130 

King.  I  pray  you,  take  me  up,  and  bear  me  hence 

Into  some  other  chamber :   softly,  pray.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  V. 

Another  chamber. 

The  King  lying  on  a  bed:   Clarence,  Gloucester, 
Warwick,  and  others  in  attendance. 

King.  Let  there  be  no  noise  made,  my  gentle  friends ; 

Unless  some  dull  and  favourable  hand 

Will  whisper  music  to  my  weary  spirit. 
War.  Call  for  the  music  in  the  other  room. 
King.  Set  me  the  crown  upon  my  pillow  here. 
Clar.  His  eye  is  hollow,  and  he  changes  much. 
War.  Less  noise,  less  noise ! 

Enter  Prince  Henry. 

Prince.  Who  saw  the  Duke  of  Clarence  ? 

Clar.  I  am  here,  brother,  full  of  heaviness. 
Prince,  How  now  !  rain  within  doors,  and  none  abroad ! 
How  doth  the  king?  .     10 

107 


Act  IV.  Sc.  V.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Glou.  Exceeding  ill. 

Prince.  Heard  he  the  good  news  yet? 

Tell  it  him. 

Glou.  He  alter'd  much  upon  the  hearing  it. 

Prince.  If  he  be  sick  with  joy,  he  '11  recover  without 
physic. 

War.  Not  so  much  noise,  my  lords :   sweet  prince,  speak 
low; 
The  king  your  father  is  disposed  to  sleep. 

Clar.  Let  us  withdraw  into  the  other  room. 

JVar.  Will 't  please  your  grace  to  £;o  along  with  us  ? 

Prince.  No ;  I  will  sit  and  watch  here  by  the  king.  20 

[Exeunt  all  except  the  Prince. 
Why  doth  the  crown  lie  there  upon  his  pillow, 
Being  so  troublesome  a  bedfellow? 
O  polish'd  perturbation  !   golden  care  ! 
That  keep'st  the  ports  of  slumber  open  wide 
To  many  a  watchful  night !  sleep  with  it  now  !     "=' 
Yet  not  so  sound  and  half  so  deeply  sweet 
As  he  whose  brow  with  homely  biggen  bound 
Snores  out  the  watch  of  night.    O  majesty! 
When  thou  dost  pinch  thy  bearer,  thou  dost  sit 
Like  a  rich  armour  worn  in  heat  of  day,  30 

That  scalds  with  safety.    By  his  gates  of  breath 
There  lies  a  downy  feather  which  stirs  not : 
Did  he  suspire,  that  light  and  weightless  down 
Perforce  must  move.    My  gracious  lord !   my  father ! 
This  sleep  is  sound  indeed ;  this  is  a  sleep. 

That  from  this  golden  rigol  hath  divorced  ■ 

So  many  English  kings.    Thy  due  from  me 
Is  tears  and  heavy  sorrows  of  the  blood. 
Which  nature,  love,  and  fiHal  tenderness, 
108 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  IV.  Sc.  v. 

Shall,  O  dear  father,  pay  thee  plenteously :  40 

My  due  from  thee  is  this  imperial  crown. 

Which,  as  immediate  from  thy  place  and  blood. 

Derives  itself  to  me.     Lo,  here  it  sits. 

Which  God  shall  guard :   and  put  the  world's  whole 

strength 
Into  one  giant  arm,  it  shall  not  force 
This  lineal  honour  from  me :  this  from  thee 
Will  I  to  mine  leave,  as  'tis  left  to  me.  [Exit. 

King.  Warwick !  Gloucester  !  Clarence ! 

Re-enter  IVarzvick,  Gloucester,  Clarence,  and  the  rest. 

Clar.  Doth  the  king  call? 

War.  What  would  your  majesty  ?  How  fares  your  grace  ? 
King.  Why  did  you  leave  me  here  alone,  my  lords?  51 
Clar.  We  left  the  prince  my  brother  here,  my  liege. 

Who  undertook  to  sit  and  watch  by  you. 
King.  The  Prince  of  Wales !     Where  is  he  ?    let  me  see 

f       him: 

He  is  not  here. 
War.  This  door  is  open  ;  he  is  gone  this  way. 
Clou.  He  came  not  through  the  chamber  where  we  stay'd. 
King.  Where  is  the  crown  ?  who  took  it  from  my  pillow  ? 
War.  When  we  withdrew,  my  liege,  we  left  it  here. 
King.  The  prince  hath  ta'en  it  hence  :  go,  seek  him  out.  60 

Is  he  so  hasty  that  he  doth  suppose 

My  sleep  my  death  ? 

Find  him,  my  Lord  of  Warwick ;   chide  him  thither. 

{Exit  Warzvick. 

This  part  of  his  conjoins  with  my  disease, 

And  helps  to  end  me.     See,  sons,  what  things  you 
are! 

109 


Act  IV.  Sc.  V.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

How  quickly  nature  falls  into  revolt 

When  gold  becomes  her  object! 

For  this  the  foolish  over-careful  fathers 

Have  broke  their  sleep  with  thoughts,  their  brains 

with  care, 
Their  bones  with  industry ;  73 

For  this  they  have  engrossed  and  piled  up 
The  canker'd  heaps  of  strange-achieved  gold ; 
For  this  they  have  been  thoughtful  to  invest 
Their  sons  with  arts  and  martial  exercises : 
When,  like  the  bee,  culling  from  every  flower 
The  virtuous  sweets. 

Our  thighs  pack'd  with  wax,  our  mouths  with  honey, 
We  bring  it  to  the  hive ;  and,  like  the  bees, 
Are  murder'd  for  our  pains.     This  bitter  taste 
Yield  his  engrossments  to  the  ending  father.  80 

Re-enter  Warzvick. 

Now,  where  is  he  that  will  not  stay  so  long 

Till  his  friend  sickness  hath  determined  me?      f 

War.  My  lord,  I  found  the  prince  in  the  next  room, 
Washing  with  kindly  tears  his  gentle  cheeks. 
With  such  a  deep  demeanour  in  great  sorrow. 
That  tyranny,  which  never  quaff'd  but  blood. 
Would,  by  beholding  him,  have  wash'd  his  knife 
With  gentle  eye-drops.     He  is  coming  hither. 

King.  But  wherefore  did  he  take  away  the  crown? 

Re-enter  Prince  Henry. 

Lo,  where  he  comes.     Come  hither  to  me,  Harry. 
Depart  the  chamber,  leave  us  here  alone.  91 

[Exeunt  Warwick  and  the  rest. 
no 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  IV.  Sc.  v. 


Prince.  I  never  thought  to  hear  you  speak  again. 

King.  Thy  wish  was  father,  Harry,  to  that  thought: 
I  stay  too  long  by  thee,  I  weary  thee. 
Dost  thou  so  hunger  for  mine  empty  chair 
That  thou  wilt  needs  invest  thee  with  my  honours 
Before  thy  hour  be  ripe?     O  foolish  youth! 
Thou  seek'st  the  greatness  that  will  overwhelm  thee. 
Stay  but  a  little;  for  my  cloud  of  dignity 
Is  held  from  falling  with  so  weak  a  wind  lOO 

That  it  will  quickly  drop:    my  day  is  dim. 
Thou  hast  stolen  that  which  after  some  few  hours 
Were  thine  without  offence;  and  at  my  death 
Thou  hast  seal'd  up  my  expectation: 
Thy  life  did  manifest  thou  lovedst  me  not. 
And  thou  wilt  have  me  die  assured  of  it. 
Thou  hidest  a  thousand  daggers  in  thy  thoughts, 
Which  thou  hast  whetted  on  thy  stony  heart, 
To  stab  at  half  an  hour  of  my  life. 
What!  canst  thou  not  forbear  me  half  an  hour?  no 
Then  get  thee  gone  and  dig  my  grave  thyself, 
And  bid  the  merry  bells  ring  to  thine    ear 
That  thou  art  crowned,  not  that  I  am  dead. 
Let  all  the  tears  that  should  bedew  my  hearse 
Be  drops  of  balm  to  sanctify  thy  head : 
Only  compound  me  with  forgotten  dust; 
Give  that  which  gave  thee  life  unto  the  worms. 
Pluck  down  my  officers,  break  my  decrees; 
For  now  a  time  is  come  to  mock  at  form: 
Harry  the  fifth  is  crown'd:  up,  vanity!  120 

Down,  royal  state!  all  you  sage  counsellors,  hence 
And  to  the  English  court  assemble  now. 
From  every  region,  apes  of  idleness! 
Ill 


Act  IV.  Sc.  V.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Now,  neighbour  confines,  purge  you  of  your  scum: 
Have  you  a  ruffian  that  will  swear,  drink,  dance, 
Revel  the  night,  rob,  murder,  and  commit 
The  oldest  sins  the  newest  kind  of  ways? 
Be  happy,  he  will  trouble  you  no  more; 
England  shall  double  gild  his  treble  guilt, 
England  shall  give  him  ofhce,  honour,  might;       130 
For  the  fifth  Harry  from  curb'd  licence  plucks 
The  muzzle  of  restraint,  and  the  wild  dog 
Shall  flesh  his  tooth  on  every  innocent. 

0  my  poor  kingdom,  sick  with  civil  blows! 
When  that  my  care  could  not  withhold  thy  riots, 
What  wilt  thou  do  when  riot  is  thy  care? 

O,  thou  wilt  be  a  wilderness  again. 
Peopled  with  wolves,  thy  old  inhabitants! 
Prince.  O,  pardon  me,  my  liege!   but  for  my  tears, 

The  moist  impediments  unto  my  speech,  140 

1  had  forestall'd  this  dear  and  deep  rebuke. 
Ere  you  with  grief  had  spoke  and  I  had  heard 
The  course  of  it  so  far.     There  is  your  crown; 
And  He  that  wears  the  crown  immortally 
Long  guard  it  yours !     If  I  effect  it  more 
Than  as  your  honour  and  as  your  renown, 
Let  me  no  more  from  this  obedience  rise, 
Which  my  most  inward  true  and  duteous  spirit 
Teacheth,  this  prostrate  and  exterior  bending. 

God  witness  with  me,  when  I  here  came  in,  150 

And  found  no  course  of  breath  within  your  majesty. 
How  cold  it  struck  my  heart !     If  I  do  feign, 
O,  let  me  in  my  present  wildness  die, 
And  never  live  to  show  the  incredulous  world 
The  noble  change  that  I  have  purposed! 
112 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  IV.  Sc.  v. 

Coming  to  look  on  you,  thinking  you  dead, 

And  dead  almost,  my  liege,  to  think  you  were, 

I  spake  unto  this  crown  as  having  sense, 

And  thus  upbraided  it :     '  The  care  on  thee  depending 

Hath  fed  upon  the  body  of  my  father;  i6o 

Therefore,  thou  best  of  gold  are  worst  of  gold: 

Other,  less  fine  in  carat,  is  m.ore  precious. 

Preserving  life  in  medicine  potable; 

But  thou,  most  fine,  most  honour'd,  most  renown'd, 

Hast  eat  thy  bearer  up.'     Thus,  my  most  royal  liege, 

Accusing  it,  I  put  it  on  my  head. 

To  try  with  it,  as  with  an  enemy 

That  iiad  before  my  face  murder'd  my  father. 

The  quarrel  of  a  true  inheritor. 

But  if  it  did  infect  my  blood  with  joy,  170 

Or  swell  my  thoughts  to  any  strain  of  pride; 

If  any  rebel  or  vain  spirit  of  mine 

Did  with  the  least  affection  of  a  welcome 

Give  entertainment  to  the  might  of  it, 

Let  God  for  ever  keep  it  from  my  head, 

And  make  me  as  the  poorest  vassal  is. 

That  doth  with  awe  and  terror  kneel  to  it! 

King.  O  my  son, 

God  put  it  in  thy  mind  to  take  it  hence, 

That  thou  mightst  win  the  more  thy  father's  love. 

Pleading  so  wisely  in  excuse  of  it!  181 

Come  hither,  Harry,  sit  thou  by  my  bed; 

And  hear,  I  think,  the  very  latest  counsel 

That  ever  I  shall  breathe.     God  knows,  my  son. 

By  what  by-paths  and  indirect  crook'd  ways 

I  met  this  crown  ;  and  I  myself  know  well 

How  troublesome  it  sat  upon  my  head. 

"3 


Act  IV.  Sc.  V.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

To  thee  it  shall  descend  with  better  quiet, 

Better  opinion,  better  confirmation; 

For  all  the  soil  of  the  achievement  goes  190 

With  me  into  the  earth.     It  seem'd  in  me 

But  as  an  honour  snatched  with  boisterous  hand. 

And  I  had  many  living  to  upbraid 

My  gain  of  it  by  their  assistances; 

Which  daily  grew  to  quarrel  and  to  bloodshed. 

Wounding  supposed  peace:  all  these  bold  fears 

Thou  see'st  with  peril  1  have  answered; 

For  all  my  reign  hath  been  but  as  a  scene 

Acting  that  argument :    and  now  my  death 

Changes  the  mode;   for  what  in  me  was  purchased, 

Falls  upon  thee  in  a  more  fairer  sort;  201 

So  thou  the  garland  wear'st  successively. 

Yet,  though  thou  stand'st  more  sure  than  I  could  do. 

Thou  art  not  firm  enough,  since  griefs  are  green ; 

And  all   my  friends,  which   thou   must   make   thy 

friends. 
Have  but  their  stings  and  teeth  newly  ta'en  out; 
By  whose  fell  working  I  was  first  advanced 
And  by  whose  power  I  well  might  lodge  a  fear 
To  be  again  displaced:    which  to  avoid, 
Icutthemof¥;  and  had  a  purpose  now  210 

To  lead  out  many  to  the  Holy  Land, 
Lest  rest  and  lying  still  might  make  them  look 
Too  near  unto  my  state.     Therefore,  my  Harry, 
Be  it  thy  course  to  busy  giddy  minds 
With  foreign  quarrels  ;  that  action,  hence  borne  out, 
May  waste  the  memory  of  the  former  days. 
More  would  I,  but  my  lungs  are  wasted  so 
That  strength  of  speech  is  utterly  denied  me. 

114 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  IV.  Sc.  v. 

How  I  came  by  the  crown,  O  God  forgive ; 
And  grant  it  may  with  thee  in  true  peace  Uve !        220 
Prince.  My  gracious  Hege, 

You  won  it,  wore  it,  kept  it,  gave  it  me ; 
Then  plan  and  right  must  my  possession  be : 
Which  I  with  more  than  with  a  common  pain 
'Gainst  all  the  world  will  rightfully  maintain. 

Enter  Lord  John  of  Lancaster. 

King.  Look,  look,  here  comes  my  John  of  Lancaster. 
Lan.  Health,  peace,  and  happiness  to  my  royal  father ! 
King.  Thou  bring' st  me  happiness  and  peace,  son  John  ; 

But  health,  alack,  with  youthful  wings  is  flown 

From  this  bare  wither'd  trunk  :   upon  thy  sight    230 

M^  worldly  business  makes  a  period. 

Where  is  my  Lord  of  Warwick  ? 
Prince.  My  Lord  of  Warwick ! 

Re-enter  Warzvick,  and  others. 

King.  Doth  any  name  particular  belong 

Unto  the  lodging  where  I  first  did  swoon  ? 

War.  'Tis  call'd  Jerusalem,  my  noble  lord. 

King.  Laud  be  to  God !   even  there  my  life  must  end. 
It  hath  been  prophesied  to  me  many  years, 
I  should  not  die  but  in  Jerusalem ; 
Which  vainly  I  supposed  the  Holy  Land : 
But  bear  me  to  that  chamber ;  there  I  '11  lie ;  240 

In  that  Jerusalem  shall  Harry  die.  [Exeunt. 


IIS 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

ACT  FIFTH. 

Scene  I. 

Gloucestershire.     Shallozv's  house. 
Enter  Shallozv,  Falstaif,  Bardolph,  and  Page. 

Shal.  By  cock  and  pie,  sir,  you  shall  not  away  to- 
night.    What,  Davy,  I  say! 

Pal.  You  must  excuse  me,  Master  Robert  Shallow. 

Shal.  I  will  not  excuse  you ;  you  shall  not  be  ex- 
cused; excuses  shall  not  be  admitted;  there  is 
no  excuse  shall  serve ;  you  shall  not  be  excused. 
Why,  Davy. 

Enter  Davy. 

« 

Davy.  Here,  sir. 

Shal.  Davy,  Davy,  Davy,  Davy,  let  me  see,  Davy; 

let   me   see,    Davy;    let   me   see:     yea,    marry,     lo 
William  cook,  bid  him  come  hither.     Sir  John, 
you  shall  not  be  excused. 

Davy.  Marry,  sir,  thus ;  those  precepts  cannot  be 
served :  and,  again,  sir,  shall  we  sow  the  head- 
land with  wheat  ? 

ShMl.  With  red  wheat,  Davy.  But  for  William  cook : 
are  there  no  young  pigeons? 

Davy.  Yes,  sir.  Here  is  now  the  smith's  note  for 
shoeing  and  plough-irons. 

Shal.  Let  it  be  cast  and  paid.     Sir  John,  you  shall  not     20 
be  excused. 

Davy.  Now,  sir,  a  new  link  to  the  bucket  must  needs 
be  had :  and,  sir,  do  you  mean  to  stop  any  of 
William's  wages,  about  the  sack  he  lost  the  other 
day  at  Hinckley  fair  ? 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

Shal.  A'  shall  answer  it.  Some  pigeons,  Davy,  a 
couple  of  short-legged  hens,  a  joint  of  mutton, 
and  any  pretty  little  tiny  kickshaws,  tell  William 
cook. 

Davy.  Doth  the  man  of  war  stay  all  night,  sir  ?  30 

Shal.  Yea,  Davy.  I  will  use  him  well:  a  friend  i' 
the  court  is  better  than  a  penny  in  purse.  Use 
his  men  well,  Davy;  for  they  are  arrant  knaves, 
and  will  backbite. 

Davy.  No  worse  than  they  are  backbitten,  sir;  for 
they  have  marvellous  foul  linen. 

Shal.  Well  conceited,  Davy:  about  thy  business, 
Davy. 

Davy.  I  beseech  you,  sir,  to  countenance  William 

Visor  of  Woncot  against  Clement  Perkes  o'  the     40 
hill. 

Shal.  There  is  many  complaints,  Davy,  against  that 
Visor:  that  Visor  is  an  arrant  knave,  on  my 
knowledge. 

Davy.  I  grant  your  worship  that  he  is  a  knave,  sir; 
but  yet,  God  forbid,  sir,  but  a  knave  should 
have  some  countenance  at  his  friend's  request. 
An  honest  man,  sir,  is  able  to  speak  for  himself, 
when  a  knave  is  not.  I  have  served  your  wor- 
ship truly,  sir,  this  eight  years;  and  if  I  cannot  50 
once  or  twice  in  a  quarter  bear  out  a  knave 
against  an  honest  man,  I  have  but  a  very  little 
credit  with  your  worship.  The  knave  is  mine 
honest  friend,  sir;  therefore,  I  beseech  your 
worship,  let  him  be  countenanced. 

Shal.  Go  to;  I  say  he  shall  have  no  wrong.  Look 
about,  Davy.      [Exit  Davy.]      Where  are  you, 

117 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Sir  John?     Come,  come,  come,  off  with  your 
boots.     Give  me  your  hand,  Master  Bardolph. 
Bard.  I  am  glad  to  see  your  worship.  60 

Shal.  I  thank  thee  with  all  my  heart,  kind  Master 
Bardolph:  and  welcome,  my  tall  fellow  {to  the 
Pagc.'\  Come,  Sir  John. 
Fal.  I  '11  follow  you,  good  Master  Robert  Shallow. 
\Exit  Shallozi'.]  Bardolph,  look  to  our  horses. 
[Exeunt  Bardolph  and  Page.]  'If  I  were  sawed 
into  quantities,  I  should  make  four  dozen  of 
such  bearded  hermits'  staves  as  Master  Shallow. 
It  is  a  wonderful  thing  to  see  the  semblable  co- 
herence of  his  men's  spirits  and  his:  they,  by  70 
observing  of  him,  do  bear  themselves  like  fool- 
ish justices;  he,  by  conversing  with  them,  is 
turned  into  a  justice-like  serving-man:  their 
spirits  are  so  married  in  conjunction  with  the 
participation  of  society  that  they  flock  together 
in  consent,  like  so  many  wild-geese.  If  I  had  a 
suit  to  Master  Shallow,  I  would  humour  his 
men  with  the  imputation  of  being  near  their 
master:  if  to  his  men,  I  would  curry  with  Mas- 
ter Shallow  that  no  man  could  better  command 
his  servants.  It  is  certain  that  either  wise  bear-  80 
ing  or  ignorant  carriage  is  caught,  as  men  take 
diseases,  one  of  another:  therefore  let  men  take 
heed  of  their  company.  I  will  devise  matter 
enough  out  of  this  Shallow  to  keep  Prince 
Harry  in  continual  laughter  the  wearing  out  of 
six  fashions,  which  is  four  terms,  or  two  ac- 
tions, and  a'  shall  laught  without  intervallums. 
O,  it  is  much  that  a  lie  with  a  slight  oath  and 
a   jest   with   a   sad   brow   will   do   with   a    fel- 

118 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  V.  Sc.  ii. 

low  that  never  had  the  ache  in  his  shoulders !     90 
S;  you  shall  see  him  laugh  till  his  face  be  like  a 
wet  cloak  ill  laid  up ! 

low. 

Scene  II. 

Westminster.     The  palace. 
Enter  Warwick  and  the  Lord  Chief  Justice,  meeting. 
War.  How  now,  my  lord  chief  justice!  whither  away? 
Ch  Jti^t.  How  doth  the  king? 

ran  Exceeding  well;  his  cares  are  now  all  ended. 
Ch.  Just.  I  hope,  not  dead^^  ^^  ^^^^^^^  ^^^  ^^,^^,  ^^  ^^^^^^ . 

"^nd  to  our  purposes  he  lives  no  more. 
a,.  jTst.  I  would  his  majesty  had  caird  me  with  him: 
The  service  that  I  truly  did  his  hte 
Hath  left  me  open  to  all  injuries 
War.  Indeed  I  think  the  young  king  loves  you  not. 
a   Just    I  know  he  doth  not,  and  do  arm  myself 
■'  To  welcome  the  condition  of  the  time. 

Which  cannot  look  more  hideously  upon  me 
Than  I  have  drawn  it  in  my  fantasy. 

Enter  Lancaster,  Clarence,  Gloucester,  Westmore- 
land, and  others. 
War.  Here  comes  the  heavy  fsue  of  dead  Harry : 
O  that  the  living  Harry  had  the  temper 
Of  him  the  worst  of  these  three  gentlemen! 
How  many  nobles  then  should  hold  their  places. 


119 


Act  V.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


y  Good  morrow,  cousin. 


That  must  strike  sail  to  spirits  of  vile  sort ! 
Ch.  Just.  O  God,  I  fear  all  will  be  overturn' d ! 
Lan.  Good  morrow,  cousin  Warwick,  good  morrow.      20 
Gloii. 
Clar. 

Lan.  We  meet  like  men  that  had  forgot  to  speak. 
Wai'.  We  do  remember ;  but  our  argument 

Is  all  too  heavy  to  admit  much  talk. 
Lan.  Well,  peace  be  with  him  that  hath  made  us  heavy ! 
Ch.  Just.  Peace  be  with  us,  lest  we  be  heavier ! 
Gloii.  O,  good  my  lord,  you  have  lost  a  friend  indeed ; 

And  I  dare  swear  you  borrow  not  that  face 

Of  seeming  sorrow,  it  is  sure  your  own. 
Lan.  Though  no  man  be  assured  what  grace  to  find,      30 

You  stand  in  coldest  expectation : 

I  am  the  sorrier ;  would  'twere  otherwise. 
Clar.  Well,  you  must  now  speak  Sir  John  Falstafif  fair ; 

Which  swims  against  your  stream  of  quality. 
Ch.  Just.  Sweet  princes,  what  I  did,  I  did  in  honour, 

Led  by  the  impartial  conduct  of  my  soul ; 

And  never  shall  you  see  that  I  will  beg 

A  ragged  and  forestall'd  remission. 

If  truth  and  upright  innocency  fail  me, 

I  '11  to  the  king  my  master  that  is  dead,  40 

And  tell  him  who  hath  sent  me  after  him. 
War.  Here  comes  the  prince. 

Enter  King  Henry  the  fifth,  attended. 

Ch.  Just.  Good  morrow,  and  God  save  your  majesty ! 
King.  This  new  and  gorgeous  garment,  majesty. 

Sits  not  so  easy  on  me  as  you  think. 

Brothers,  you  mix  your  sadness  with  some  fear : 

120 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  V.  Sc.  ii. 

This  is  the  EngHsh,  not  the  Turkish  court; 

Not  Amurath  an  Amurath  succeeds, 

But  Harry  Harry.    Yet  be  sad,  good  brothers, 

For,  by  my  faith,  it  very  well  becomes  you:  50 

Sorrow  so  royally  in  you  appears 

That  I  will  deeply  put  the  fashion  on. 

And  wear  it  in  my  heart:   why  then,  be  sad; 

But  entertain  no  more  of  it,  good  brothers. 

Than  a  joint  burden  laid  upon  us  all. 

For  me,  by  heaven,  I  bid  you  be  assured, 

I  '11  be  your  father  and  your  brother  too; 

Let  me  but  bear  your  love,  I  '11  bear  your  cares: 

Yet  weep  that  Harry's  dead;   and  so  will  I; 

But  Harry  lives,  that  shall  convert  those  tears     60 

By  number  into  hours  of  happiness. 

Princes.  We  hope  no  other  from  your  majesty. 

King.  You  all  look  strangely  on  me:   and  you  most; 
You  are,  I  think,  assured  I  love  you  not. 

Ch.  Just.  I  am  assured,  if  I  be  measured  rightly, 
Your  majesty  hath  no  just  cause  to  hate  me. 

Fing.  No! 

How  might  a  prince  of  my  great  hopes  forget 
So  great  indignities  you  laid  upon  me? 
What!   rate,  rebuke,  and  roughly  send  to  prison  70 
The  immediate  heir  of  England  !     Was  this  easy  ? 
May  this  be  wash'd  in  Lethe,  and  forgotten? 

C/i.  Just.  I  then  did  use  the  person  of  your  father; 
The  image  of  his  power  lay  then  in  me : 
And,  in  the  administration  of  his  law, 
Whiles  I  was  busy  for  the  commonwealth, 
Your  highness  pleased  to  forget  my  place, 
The  majesty  and  power  of  law  and  justice, 
121 


Act  V.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

The  image  of  the  king  whom  I  presented, 
And  struck  me  in  the  very  seat  of  judgement;       80 
Whereon,  as  an  offender  to  your  father, 
I  give  bold  way  to  my  authority. 
And  did  commit  you.    If  the  deed  were  ill, 
Be  you  contented,  wearing  now  the  garland, 
To  have  a  son  set  your  decrees  at  nought. 
To  pluck  down  justice  from  your  awful  bench, 
To  trip  the  course  of  law  and  blunt  the  sword 
That  guards  the  peace  and  safety  of  your  person; 
Nay,  more,  to  spurn  at  your  most  royal  image 
And  mock  your  workings  in  a  second  body.         90 
Question  your  royal  thoughts,  make  the  case  yours ; 
Be  now  the  father  and  propose  a  son. 
Hear  your  own  dignity  so  much  profaned. 
See  your  most  dreadful  laws  so  loosely  slighted. 
Behold  yourself  so  by  a  son  disdain'd; 
And  then  imagine  me  taking  your  part. 
And  in  your  power  soft  silencing  your  son: 
After  this  cold  considerance,  sentence  me ; 
And,  as  you  are  a  king,  speak  in  your  state 
What  I  have  done  that  misbecame  my  place,  100 

My  person,  or  my  liege's  sovereignty. 
King,  You  are  right,  justice,  and  you  weigh  this  well; 
Therefore  still  bear  the  balance  and  the  sword: 
And  I  do  wish  your  honours  may  increase, 
Till  you  do  live  to  see  a  son  of  mine 
Offend  you,  and  obey  you,  as  I  did. 
So  shall  I  live  to  speak  my  father's  words: 
*  Happy  am  I,  that  have_  a  man  so  bold, 
That  dares  do  justice  on  my  proper  son; 
And  not  less  happy,  having  such  a  son,  110 

122 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  V.  Sc.  ii. 

That  would  deliver  up  his  greatness  so 
Into  the  hands  of  justice.'     You  did  commit  me: 
For  which,  I  do  commit  into  your  hand 
The  unstained  sword  that  you  have  used  to  bear ; 
With  this  remembrance,  that  you  use  the  same 
With  the  like  bold,  just,  and  impartial  spirit 
As  you  have  done  'gainst  me.     There  is  my  hand. 
You  shall  be  as  a  father  to  my  youth : 
My  voice  shall  sound  as  you  do  prompt  mine  ear, 
And  I  will  stoop  and  humble  my  intents  120 

To  your  well-practised  wise  directions. 
And,  princes  all,  believe  me,  I  beseech  you ; 
My  father  is  gone  wild  into  his  grave, 
For  in  his  tomb  lie  my  affections ; 
And  with  his  spirit  sadly  I  survive, 
To  mock  the  expectation  of  the  world, 
To  frustrate  prophecies,  and  to  raze  out 
Rotten  opinion,  who  hath  writ  me  down 
After  my  seeming.     The  tide  of  blood  in  me 
Hath  proudly  flow'd  in  vanity  till  now :  130 

Now  doth  it  turn  and  ebb  back  to  the  sea, 
Where  it  shall  mingle  with  the  state  of  floods, 
And  flow  henceforth  in  formal  majesty. 
Now  call  we  our  high  court  of  parliament : 
And  let  us  choose  such  limbs  of  noble  counsel, 
That  the  great  body  of  our  state  may  go 
In  equal  rank  with  the  best  govern'd  nation ; 
That  war,  or  peace,  or  both  at  once,  may  be 
As  things  acquainted  and  familiar  to  us ; 
In  which  you,  father,  shall  have  foremost  hand.     140 
Our  coronation  done,  we  will  accite. 
As  I  before  remember' d,  all  our  state : 
123 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

And,  God  consigning  to  my  good  intents, 

No  prince  nor  peer  shall  have  just  cause  to  say, 

God  shorten  Harry's  happy  life  one  day.       [Exeunt. 

Scene  III. 

Gloucestershire.     Shallozv's  orchard. 

Enter  Falstaif,  Shallozv,  Silence,  Davy,  Bardolph, 
and  the  Page. 

Shal.  Nay,  you  shall  see  my  orchard,  where,  in  an 

arbour,  we  will  eat  a  last  year's  pippin  of  my 

own  graffing,  with  a  dish  of  caraways,  and  so 

forth :   come,  cousin  Silence :   and  then  to  bed. 
Fal.  'Fore  God,  you  have  here  a  goodly  dwelling 

and  a  rich. 
Shal.  Barren,  barren,  barren ;    beggars  all,  beggars 

all,  Sir  John  :   marry,  good  air.     Spread,  Davy ; 

spread,  Davy ;  well  said,  Davy. 
Fal.  This  Davy  serves  you  for  good  uses ;  he  is  your     lo 

serving-man  and  your  husband. 
Shal.  A  good  varlet,  a  good  varlet,  a  very  good  var- 

let,  Sir  John :    by  the  mass,  I  have  drunk  too 

much  sack  at  supper:   a  good  varlet.     Now  sit 

down,  now  sit  down :  come,  cousin. 
Sil.  Ah,  sirrah !   quoth-a,  we  shall 

Do  nothing  but  eat,  and  make  good  cheer.    [Singing. 

And  praise  God  for  the  merry  year ; 

When  flesh  is  cheap  and  females  dear, 

And  lusty  lads  roam  here  and  there  20 

So  merrily, 
And  ever  among  so  merrily. 
124 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

Fal.  There  's  a  merry  heart  I     Good  Master  Silence, 

I  '11  give  you  a  health  for  that  anon. 
Shai  Give  master  Bardolph  some  wine,  Davy. 
Davy.  Sweet,  sir,  sit ;  I  '11  be  with  you  anon ;  most 
sweet  sir,  sit.  Master  page,  good  master  page, 
sit.  Proface !  What  you  want  in  meat,  we  '11 
have  in  drink ;  but  you  must  bear ;  the  heart 's 
all.  [Exit.     30 

Shal.  Be  merry,   Master  Bardolph ;    and,   my  little 

soldier  there,  be  merry. 
Sil.  Be  merry,  be  merry,  my  wife  has  all ;  [Singing, 

For  women  are  shrews,  both  short  and  tall : 
'Tis  merry  in  hall  when  beards  wag  all, 

And  welcome  merry  Shrove-tide. 
Be  merry,  be  merry. 
Fal.  I  did  not  think  Master  Silence  had  been  a  man 

of  this  mettle. 
^^7.  Who,  I  ?     I  have  been  merry  twice  and  once  ere     40 
now. 

Re-enter  Davy. 

Davy.  There  's  a  dish  of  leather-coats  for  you. 

[To  Bardolph. 
Shal.  Davy!     ' 
Davy.  Your   worship !     I  '11   be   with   you  straight 

[to  Bardolph].     A  cup  of  wine,  sir? 
Sil.  A  cup  of  wine  that 's  brisk  and  fine,       [Singing. 

And  drink  unto  the  leman  mine ; 
And  a  merry  heart  lives  long-a. 
Fal.  Well  said.  Master  Silence. 
Sil.  An  we  shall  be  merry,  now  comes  in  the  sweet     50 

o'  the  night. 
Fal.  Health  and  long  life  to  you,  Master  Silence. 

12?, 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Sil.  Fill  the  cup,  and  let  it  come;  [Singing. 

I  '11  pledge  you  a  mile  to  the  bottom. 

Shal.  Honest  Bardolph,  welcome:  if  thou  wantest 
any  thing,  and  wilt  not  call,  beshrew  thy  heart. 
Welcome,  my  little  tiny  thief  [to  the  Page],  and 
welcome  indeed  too.  I  '11  drink  to  Master  Bar- 
dolph, and  to  all  the  cavaleros  about  London. 

Davy.  I  hope  to  see  London  once  ere  I  die.  60 

Bard.  An  I  might  see  you  there,  Davy, — 

Shal.  By  the  mass,  you  '11  crack  a  quart  together,  ha ! 
will  you  not.  Master  Bardolph? 

Bard.  Yea,  sir,  in  a  pottle-pot. 

Shal.  By  God's  liggens,  I  thank  thee :  the  knave  will 
stick  by  thee,  I  can  assure  thee  that.  A'  will 
not  out ;    he  is  true  bred. 

Bard.  And  I  '11  stick  by  him,  sir. 

Shal.  Why,  there  spoke  a  king.     Lack  nothing:   be 

merry.     [Knocking    within.]     Look    who's    at     70 
door  there,  ho!   who  knocks?  [Exit  Davy. 

Fal.  Why,  now  you  have  done  me  right. 

[To  Silence,  seeing  him  take  off.  a  bumper. 

Sil.  Do  me  right,  [Singing. 

And  dub  me  knight : 
Samingo. 
Is  't  not  so  ? 

Fal.  'Tis  so. 

Sil.  Is  't  so  ?  Why  then,  say  an  old  man  can  do 
somewhat. 

Re-enter  Davy. 

Davy.  An  't  please  your  worship,  there  's  one  Pistol     80 

come  from  the  court  with  news. 
Fal.  From  the  court !  let  him  come  in. 

126 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  V,  Sc.  iii. 

Enter  Pistol 

How  now,  Pistol ! 
Pist.  Sir  John,  God  save  you ! 
Pal.  What  wind  blew  you  hither,  Pistol  ? 
Pist.  Not  the  ill  wind  which  blows  no  man  to  good. 

Sweet  knight,  thou  art  now  one  of  the  greatest 

men  in  this  realm. 
SiL  By  'r  lady,  I  think  a'  be,  but  goodman  Puff  of 

Barson.  90 

Pist.  Puff! 

Puff  in  thy  teeth,  most  recreant  coward  base ! 

Sir  John,  I  am  thy  Pistol  and  thy  friend, 

And  helter-skelter  have  I  rode  to  thee, 

And  tidings  do  I  bring  and  lucky  joys 

And  golden  times  and  happy  news  of  price. 
Pah  I  pray  thee  now,  deliver  them  like  a  man  of  this 

world, 
Pist.  A  foutre  for  the  world  and  worldlings  base ! 

I  speak  of  Africa  and  golden  joys.  100 

Pal.  O  base  Assyrian  knight,  what  is  thy  news  ? 

Let  King  Cophetua  know  the  truth  thereof. 
SiL  And  Robin  Hood,  Scarlet,  and  John.  [Singing. 

Pist.  Shall  dunghill  curs  confront  the  Helicons? 

And  shall  good  news  be  baffled  ? 

Then,  Pistol,  lay  thy  head  in  Furies'  lap. 
Shal.  Honest  gentleman,  I  know  not  your  breeding. 
Pist.  Whey  then,  lament  therefore. 
Shal.  Give  me  pardon,  sir :    if,  sir,  you  come  with 

news  from  the  court,  I  take  it  there's  but  two  no 

ways,  either  to  utter  them,  or  to  conceal  them. 

I  am,  sir,  under  the  king,  in  some  authority. 

1:27 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Pist.  Under  which  king,  Besonian  ?  speak,  or  die. 

Shal.  Under  King  Harry. 

Pist.  Harry  the  fourth  ?  or  fifth  ? 

ShaL  Harry  the  fourth. 

Pist.  A  foutre  for  thine  office ! 

Sir  John,  thy  tender  lambkin  now  is  king; 
Harry  the  fifth  's  the  man.    I  speak  the  truth  : 
When  Pistol  lies,  do  this  ;  and  fig  me,  like 
The  bragging  Spaniard. 

Fal.  What,  is  the  old  king  dead?  120 

Pist.  As  nail  in  door :  the  things  I  speak  are  just. 

Fal.  Away,  Bardolph!  saddle  my  horse.  Master 
Robert  Shallow,  choose  what  office  thou  wilt 
in  the  land,  'tis  thine.  Pistol,  I  will  double- 
charge  thee  with  dignities. 

Bard.  O  joyful  day ! 

I  would  not  take  a  knighthood  for  my  fortune. 

Pist.  What !   I  do  bring  good  news. 

Fal.  Carry  Master  Silence  to  bed.     Master  Shallow, 

my  Lord  Shallow, — be  what  thou  wilt;  I  am  130 
fortune's  steward — get  on  thy  boots :  we  '11  ride 
all  night.  O  sweet  Pistol!  Away,  Bardolph! 
[Exit  Bard.]  Come,  Pistol,  utter  more  to  me; 
and  withal  devise  something  to  do  thyself  good. 
Boot,  boot.  Master  Shallow !  I  know  the  young 
king  is  sick  for  me.  Let  us  take  any  man's 
horses ;  the  laws  of  England  are  at  my  com- 
mandment. Blessed  are  they  that  have  been 
my  friends;  and  woe  to  my  lord  chief  justice! 
Let  vultures  vile  seize  on  his  lungs  also!  140 

*  Where  is  the  life  that  late  I  led  ?  '  say  they : 
Why  here  it  is ;  welcome  these  pleasant  days ! 

128 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  V.  Sc.  iv. 

Scene  IV. 

London.     A  street. 

Enter  Beadles,  dragging  in  Hostess  Quickly  and 
Doll  Tearsheet. 

Host.  No,  thou  arrant  knave ;  I  would  to  God  that  I 
might  die,  that  I  might  have  thee  hanged :  thou 
hast  drawn  my  shoulder  out  of  joint. 

First  Bead.  The  constables  have  delivered  her  over  to 
me ;  and  she  shall  have  whipping-cheer  enough, 
I  warrant  her:  there  hath  been  a  man  or  two 
lately  killed  about  her. 

Dol.  Nut-hook,  nut-hook,  you  lie.     Come  on ;    I  '11 
tell  thee  what,  thou  damned  tripe-visaged  rascal, 
an  the  child  I  now  go  with  do  miscarry,  thou     lo 
wert  better  thou  hadst  struck  thy  mother,  thou 
paper-faced  villain. 

Host.  O  the  Lord,  that  Sir  John  were  come!  he 
would  make  this  a  bloody  day  to  somebody. 
But  I  pray  God  the  fruit  of  her  womb  mis- 
carry ! 

First  Bead,  If  it  do,  you  shall  have  a  dozen  of  cush- 
ions again ;  you  have  but  eleven  now.  Come, 
I  charge  you  both  go  with  me ;  for  the  man  is 
dead  that  you  and  Pistol  beat  amongst  you.  20 

Dol.  I  '11  tell  you  what,  you  thin  man  in  a  censer, 
I  will  have  you  as  soundly  swinged  for  this, — 
you  blue-bottle  rogue,  you  filthy  famished  cor- 
rectioner,  if  you  be  not  swinged,  I  '11  forswear 
half-kirtles. 

First  Bead.  Come,  come,  you  she  knight-errant,  come. 

129 


Act  V.  Sc.  V.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Host.  O    God,    that    right    should    thus    overcome 

might !     \\^ell,  of  sufferance  comes  ease. 
Dol.  Come,  you  rogue,  come;   bring  me  to  a  justice.     30 
Host.  Ay,  come,  you  starved  blood-hound. 
Dol.  Goodman  death,  goodman  bones! 
Host.  Thou  atorfiy,  thou! 

Dol.  Come,  you  thin  thing;    come,  you  rascal. 
First  Bead.  Very  well.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  V. 

A  public  place  near  Westminster  Abbey. 

Enter  tzvo  grooms,  streunng  rushes. 

First  Groom.  More  rushes,  more  rushes. 

Sec.  Groom.  The  trumpets  have  sounded  twice. 

First  Groom.  'Twill  be  two  o'clock   ere  they  come 

from  the  coronation  :   dispatch,  dispatch.       [Exeunt. 

Enter  Falstaff,  SJiallozc,  Pistol,  Bardolph,  and  Page. 

Fal.  Stand  here  by  me,  Master  Robert  Shallow ;    I  "* 
will  make  the  king  do  you  grace :    I  will  leer 
upon  him  as  a'  comes  by ;   and  do  but  mark  the 
countenance  that  he  will  give  me. 

Pist.  God  bless  thy  lungs,  good  knight. 

Fal.  Come  here.  Pistol;    stand  behind  me.     O,  if  I     10 
had  had  time  to  have  made  new  liveries,  I  would 
have  bestowed  the  thousand  pound  I  borrowed 
of  you.     But  'tis  no  matter ;  this  poor  show  doth 
better:  this  doth  infer  the  zeal  I  had  to  see  him. 

ShaL  It  doth  so. 

Fal,  It  shows  my  earnestness  of  affection, — 

Shal.  It  doth  so. 

130 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  V.  Sc.  V. 

Fal.  My  devotion, — 

Shal  It  doth,  it  doth,  it  doth. 

Fal.  As  it  were,  to  ride  day  and  night ;    and  not  to     20 

deUberate,  not  to  remember,  not  to  have  patience 

to  shift  me, — 
Shal.  It  is  best,  certain. 
Fal.  But  to  stand  stained  with  travel,  and  sweating 

with  desire  to  see  him  ;  thinking  of  nothing  else, 

putting  all  affairs  else  in  oblivion,  as  if  there 

were  nothing  else  to  be  done  but  to  see  him. 
Pist.  'Tis  '  semper  idem,'  for  '  obsque  hoc  nihil  est : ' 

'tis  all  in  every  part. 
Shal.  'Tis  so,  indeed.  30 

Pist.  My  knight,  I  will  inflame  thy  noble  liver, 

And  make  thee  rage. 

Thy  Doll,  and  Helen  of  thy  noble  thoughts. 

Is  in  base  durance  and  contagious  prison ; 

Haled  thither 

By  most  mechanical  and  dirty  hand : 

Rouse  up  revenge  from  ebon  den  with  fell  Alecto's 
snake, 

For  Doll  is  in.     Pistol  speaks  nought  but  truth. 
Fal.  I  will  deliver  her.  39 

[Sho^its  zvithln,  and  the  trumpets  sound. 
Pist.  There  roar'd  the  sea,  and  trumpet-clangor  sounds. 

Enter  the  King  and  his  train,  the  Lord  Chief  Justice 
among  them. 

Fal.  God  save  thy  grace.  King  Hal !   my  royal  Hal ! 
Pist.  The  heavens  thee  guard  and  keep,  most  royal 

imp  of  fame ! 
Fal.  God  save  thee,  my  sweet  boy ! 

131 


Act  V.  Sc.  V.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

King.  My  lord  chief  justice,  speak  to  that  vain  man. 

Ch.  Just.  Have  you  your  wits  ?   know  you  what  'tis  you 
speak  ? 

FaL  My  king !   my  Jove !  I  speak  to  thee,  my  heart ! 

King.  I  know  thee  not,  old  man :   fall  to  thy  prayers ; 
How  ill  white  hairs  become  a  fool  and  jester! 
I  have  long  dream'd  of  such  a  kind  of  man,  50 

So  surfeit-swell'd,  so  old,  and  so  profane ; 
But,  being  awaked,  I  do  despise  my  dream. 
Make  less  thy  body  hence,  and  more  thy  grace ; 
Leave  gormandizing ;   know  the  grave  doth  gape 
For  thee  thrice  wider  than  for  other  men. 
Reply  not  to  me  with  a  fool-born  jest : 
Presume  not  that  I  am  the  thing  I  was ; 
For  God  doth  know,  so  shall  the  world  perceive. 
That  I  have  turn'd  away  my  former  self; 
So  will  I  those  that  kept  me  company.  60 

When  thou  dost  hear  I  am  as  I  have  been. 
Approach  me,  and  thou  shalt  be  as  thou  wast, 
The  tutor  and  the  feeder  of  my  riots : 
Till  then,  I  banish  thee,  on  pain  of  death, 
As  I  have  done  the  rest  of  my  misleaders, 
Not  to  come  near  our  person  by  ten  mile. 
For  competence  of  life  I  will  allow  you. 
That  lack  of  means  enforce  you  not  to  evil : 
And,  as  we  hear  you  do  reform  yourselves,  69 

We  will,  according  to  your  strengths  and  qualities. 
Give    you    advancement.     Be    it    your    charge,    my 

lord, 
To  see  perform'd  the  tenour  of  our  word. 
Set  on.  [Exeunt  King,  etc, 

FaL  Master  Shallow,  I  owe  you  a  thousand  pound. 

132 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  V.  Sc.  v. 

ShaL  Yea,  marry,  Sir  John ;  which  I  beseech  you  to 
let  me  have  home  with  me. 

Fal  That  can  hardly  be,  Master  Shallow.     Do  not 
you  grieve  at  this ;   I  shall  be  sent  for  in  private 
to  him :    look  you,  he  must  seem  thus  to  the 
world :    fear  not  your  advancements ;    I  will  be     So 
the  man  yet  that  shall  make  you  great. 

SJiaJ.  1  cannot  well  perceive  how,  unless  you  should 
give  me  your  doublet,  and  stuff  me  out  with 
straw.  I  beseech  you,  good  Sir  John,  let  me 
have  five  hundred  of  my  thousand. 

Fal.  Sir,  I  will  be  as  good  as  my  word :  this  that 
you  heard  was  but  a  colour. 

ShaL  A  colour  that  I  fear  you  will  die  in,  Sir  John. 

Fal.  Fear  no  colours :   go  with  me  to  dinner :   come. 

Lieutenant  Pistol ;    come,  Bardolph :    I  shall  be     9c 
sent  for  soon  at  night. 

Re-enter  Prince  John,  and  the  Lord  Chief  Justice; 
Officers  zvith  them. 

Ch.  Just.  Go,  carry  Sir  John  Falstaff  to  the  Fleet : 
Take  all  his  company  along  with  him. 

Fal.  My  lord,  my  lord, — 

Ch.  Just.  I  cannot  now  speak :  I  will  hear  you  soon. 
Take  them  away. 

Fist.  Si  fortuna  me  tormenta,  spero  contenta. 

[Exeunt  all  hut  Prince  John  and  the  Chief  Justice. 

Lan.  I  like  this  fair  proceeding  of  the  king's : 
He  hath  intent  his  wonted  followers 
Shall  all  be  very  well  provided  for  ;  100 

But  all  are  banish'd  till  their  conversations 
Appear  more  wise  and  modest  to  the  world. 

133 


Epilogue  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Ch.  Just.  And  so  they  are. 

Lan.  The  king  hath  call'd  his  parUament,  my  lord. 

Ch.  Just.  He  hath. 

Lan.  I  will  lay  odds  that,  ere  this  year  expire, 
We  bear  our  civil  swords  and  native  fire 
As  far  as  France :   I  heard  a  bird  so  sing. 
Whose  music,  to  my  thinking,  pleased  the  king. 
Come,  will  you  hence  ?  [Exeunt,   no 

EPILOGUE. 

Spoken  by  a  Dancer. 

First  my  fear ;  then  my  courtesy ;  last  my 
speech.  My  fear  is,  your  displeasure ;  my  cour- 
tesy, my  duty ;  and  my  speech,  to  beg  your  par- 
dons. If  you  look  for  a  good  speech  now,  you 
undo  me :  for  what  I  have  to  say  is  of  mine  own 
making;  and  what  indeed  I  should  say  will,  I 
doubt,  prove  mine  own  marring.  But  to  the 
purpose,  and  so  to  the  venture.  Be  it  known  to 
you,  as  it  is  very  well,  I  was  lately  here  in  the 
end  of  a  displeasing  play,  to  pray  your  patience  lo 
for  it  and  to  promise  you  a  better.  I  meant 
indeed  to  pay  you  with  this ;  which,  if  like  an 
ill  venture  it  come  unluckily  home,  I  break,  and 
you,  my  gentle  creditors,  lose.  Here  I  promised 
you  I  would  be,  and  here  I  commit  my  body  to 
your  mercies :  bate  me  some,  and  I  will  pay  you 
some,  and,  as  most  debtors  do,  promise  you  in- 
finitely. 

If  my  tongue  cannot  entreat  you  to  acquit  me, 

134 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Epilogue 

will  you  command  me  to  use  my  legs?  and  yet  20 
that  were  but  light  payment,  to  dance  out  of 
your  debt.  But  a  good  conscience  will  make 
any  possible  satisfaction,  and  so  would  I.  All 
the  gentlewomen  here  have  forgiven  me :  if  the 
gentlemen  will  not,  then  the  gentlemen  do  not 
agree  with  the  gentlewomen,  which  was  never 
seen  before  in  such  an  assembly. 

One  word  more,  I  beseech  you.  If  you  be 
not  too  much  cloyed  with  fat  meat,  our  humble 
author  will  continue  the  story,  with  Sir  John  in  3c 
it,  and  make  you  merry  with  fair  Katharine  of 
France;  where,  for  any  thing  I  know,  Falstaff 
shall  die  of  a  sweat,  unless  already  a'  be  killed 
with  your  hard  opinions ;  for  Oldcastle  died  a 
martyr,  and  this  is  not  the  man.  Aly  tongue  is 
weary :  when  my  legs  are  too,  I  will  bid  you 
good  night:  and  so  kneel  down  before  you; 
but,  indeed,  to  pray  for  the  queen. 


135 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Glossary. 


A',  he  (Quartos,  "a";  Folios, 
"  hee  "  or  "  he  ")  ',  I.  ii.  48. 

Abated,  "  reduced  to  lower 
temper,  or  as  the  workmen 
call  it,  let  down"  (Johnson)  ; 
I.  i.  117. 

Abide,  undergo,  meet  the  for- 
tunes of  ;  II.  iii.  36. 

Able,  active;  I.  i.  43. 

Abroach;  "  set  a.,"  cause,  ?  set 
flowing;  IV.  ii.  14. 

Accite,  summon;  V.  ii.  141. 

Accites,  incites  (Folios  3,  4, 
"excites")  ;  II.  ii.  64. 

Accommodated,  supplied  (sat- 
irized as  an  affected  word)  ; 
(Quarto,  ''  accommodate  ")  ; 
III.  ii.  71. 

Achitophcl,  Ahithopel,  the 
counsellor  of  Absalom, 
cursed  by  David  (Folio  2, 
"  Architophel")  ;   I.   ii.   39- 

Aconitiim,  aconite;   IV.  iv.  48. 

Address'd,  prepared;  IV.  iv.  5. 

Advised,  well  aware;  I.  i.  172. 

Affect,  love ;  IV.  v.  145. 

Affections,  inclinations;  IV.  iv. 

After,  according  to;  V.  ii.  129. 

Against,  before,  in  anticipation 
of;IV.  ii.  81. 

Agate,  a  figure  cut  in  an  agate 
stone  and  worn  in  a  ring  or 
as  a  seal;  a  symbol  of  small- 
ress  (Johnson's  emendation 
of  Folios,  "  agot")  ;  I.  ii.  19. 


Aggravate,  Mrs.  Q.'s  blunder 
for  moderate;  II.  iv.  170. 

All,  quite;  IV.  i.  156. 

Allow,  approve ;  IV.  ii.  54. 

Amurath,  the  name  of  the 
Turkish  Sultans ;  Amurath 
III.  died  in  1596,  leaving  a 
son  Amurath,  who,  on  com- 
ing to  the  throne,  invited  his 
brothers  to  a  feast,  where  he 
had  them  all  strangled,  in  or- 
der to  prevent  any  incon- 
venient disputes  concerning 
the  succession.  T  hi  s  is 
probably  the  circumstance 
which  is  here  referred  to  (the 
allusion  helps  to  fix  the  date 
of  the  play)  ;  V.  ii.  48. 

An,  if  (Quarto,  "  and"  ;  Folios, 
"if')  ;  I.  fi.  59. 

Anatomize,  lay  open,  show  dis- 
tinctly (Folio  4,  "anato- 
mize"; Quarto,  "  anotho- 
mize";  Folios  i,  2,  3,  "  Ana- 
thomize")  ;  Induct.  21. 

Ancient,  ensign;  II.  iv.  72. 

Angel,  with  play  upon  angel, 
the  gold  coin,  of  the  value  of 
ten  shillings;  I.  ii.  177. 

Anon,  anon,  Sir,  the  customary 
reply  of  the  Drawers;  II.  iv. 
296. 

Antiquity,  old  age;  I.  ii.  299. 

Appertinent,  belonging;  I.  ii. 
184. 


130 


KING  HENRY  IV. 


Glossary 


Apple-Johns,  a  particular  kind 
of  apple,  which  shrivelled  by 
keeping;  II.  iv.  2. 

Apprehensive,  imaginative ;  IV. 
iii.  103. 

Approve,  prove;  I.  ii.  205. 

Apter,  more  ready;  I.  i.  69. 

Argument,  subject;  V.  ii.  23. 

Armed,  with  spurs  (Quarto, 
"  armed  "  ;  Folios,  "  able  "  ; 
Pope,  "agile")  ;  I.  i.  44. 

Assemhlance,  aggfegate,  tout 
ensemble  (Pope,  "sem- 
blance"; Capell,  "assem- 
blage") ;  III.  ii.  272. 

Assurance,  surety;  I.  ii.  36. 

At  a  word,  in  a  word,  briefly; 
III.  ii.  313. 

Atomy,  Mrs.  Q.'s  blunder  for 
"anatomy,"  skeleton  (Folios 
"Anatomy")  ;  V.  iv.  33. 

Atonement,  reconciliation;  IV. 
i.  221. 

Attach,  arrest;  IV.  ii.  109. 

Attached,  seized;  II.  ii.  3. 

Attend,  await,  waits  for;  I.  i.  3. 

Azi'ay  zvitJi;  "could  a.  w.  me," 
i.e.  could  endure  me ;  III.  ii. 

Awful,  inspiring  awe ;  V.  ii.  86. 

Aivfnl  banks,  bounds  of  re- 
spect, reverence  (Warburton, 
"lawful")  ;   IV.  i.   176. 

Back-szvord  man,  fencer  at 
single  sticks ;  III.  ii.  69. 

Balm,  consecrated  oil  used  for 
anointing  kings;  IV.  v.  115. 

Band,  bond  (Folios,  "bond")  ; 

I.  ii.  2>7- 

Barbary  hen,  a  ben  whose 
feathers  are  naturally  ruffled ; 

II.  iv.  104. 


Barson,  corruption  of  Barston, 
in  Warwickshire ;   V.   iii.  90. 

Bartholomew  boar- pig,  roast 
pig  was  one  of  the  attrac- 
tions of  Bartholomew  Fair ; 
II.  iv.  241. 

Basingstoke,  in  Hampshire, 
about  fifty  miles  from  Lon- 
don (Quarto,  "Billings- 
gate ")  ;  II.  i.  177. 

Basket  hilt,  the  hilt  of  a  sword 
with  a  covering  of  narrow 
plates  of  steel  in  the  shape 
of  a  basket,  and  serving  as 
a  protection  to  the  hand ;  II. 
iv.  136. 

Bastardly,  ?    dastardly;    II.    i. 

51- 

Bate,  contention ;  II.  iv.  263. 

Bate,  remit ;  Epil.  16. 

Battle,  army;  IV.  i.  154. 

Battle,  battalion;  III.  ii.  163. 

Bazvl  out,  bawl  out  from 
(Quarto,  "  bal  out";  Capell, 
'bawl    out    from");    II.    ii. 

27; 

Baying,  driving  to  bay  (a  term 
of  the  chase)  ;  I.  iii.  80. 

Bear-herd,  leader  of  a  tame 
bear  (Folio  4,  "bear-herd" ; 
Quarto,  "Berod";  Folios  i, 
2,  "  Beare-heard  "  ;  Folio  3. 
"Bear-heard")  ;  I.  ii.   182. 

Bear  in  hand,  flatter  with  false 
hopes,  keep  in  expectation ; 
I.  ii.  40. 

Beavers,  movable  fronts  of  hel- 
mets;   IV.  i.   120. 

Beefs,  oxen  (?)  cattle  (Fo- 
lios, "  beeves  ")  ;  III.  ii.  347. 

Before, .  go  before  me ;  IV.  i. 
228. 


137 


Glossary 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Being  you  are,  since  yoU  are 
(Gould  conjectured  "see- 
ing") ;  11.  i.  193. 

Belike,  I  suppose;  II.  ii.  11. 

Beseek,  beseech;  II.  iv.  170. 

Besonian,  base  fellow,  beggar ; 
V.  iii.  113. 

Bestow,  behave ;  II.  ii.  177. 

Bestowed,  spent ;  V.  v.  12. 

Big,  pregnant;  Induct.  13. 

Biggen,  "  nightcap  "  ;  properly, 
a  coarse  headband  or  cap 
worn  by  the  Beguines,  an 
order  of  Flemish  nuns ;  IV. 
V.  27. 

Bleed,  be  bled ;  IV.  i.  57. 

Bloody,  headstrong,  intemper- 
ate ;  IV.  i.  34. 

Blubbered,  blubbering,  weep- 
ing; II.  iv.  411. 

Blue-bottle  rogue;  alluding  to 
the  blue  uniform  of  the 
beadles ;  V.  iv.  22. 

Blunt,  dull-witted;  Induct.  18. 

Bona  -  robas,  handsome 
wenches;  III.  ii.  25. 

Borne  with,  laden  with;  II.  iv. 

383. 

Bounce,  bang ;  III.  ii.  299. 

Brave,  defy ;  II.  iv.  224. 

Brawn,  mass  of  flesh ;  I.  i.   19. 

Break,  am  bankrupt;  Epil.   13. 

Breathe,  let  take  breath,  rest ; 
I.  i.  38. 

Bruited,  noised,  rumoured 
abroad ;  I.  i.  114. 

Buckle,  bow,  bend  (Bailey  con- 
jectured "knuckle");  I.  i. 
141. 

Bung,  sharper ;  II.  iv.  133. 

Burst,  broke,  cracked ;  III.  ii. 
341. 


Busses,  kisses ;  II.  iv.  282. 

But,  except ;  V.  iii.  89. 

By,   on,   consequent   upon;    IV. 

V.  87. 
By     God's     liggens,     an     oath, 

probably   of   the    same    force 

as    "  bodikins "    (omitted     in 

Folios)  ;  V.  iii.  65. 
By  the  rood,  by  the  holy  cross, 

an  asseveration  ;  III.  ii.  3. 
By  yea  and  nay,  without  doubt ; 

III.  ii.  10. 

Caliver,   a   very  light   musket ; 

III.  ii.  287. 

Calm,  qualm ;  II.  iv.  38. 

Came,  became ;  II.  iii.  57. 

Canaries,  canary  wine  (Folio  4, 
"  Canary  ")  ;  II.  iv.  28. 

Candle-mine,  magazine  of  tal- 
low ;  II.  iv.  316. 

Canker'd,  polluted ;  IV.  v.  72. 

Cankers,  canker-worms ;  II.  ii. 
102. 

Cannibals,    Hannibals ;    II.    iv. 

175- 

Capable,  susceptible ;  I.  i.  172. 

Carat,  quality  (Folios  i,  2,  3, 
"  Charract " ;  Folio  4.  "  Cav- 
ract";    Quarto,  "Karrat"); 

IV.  V.  162. 

Caraways,  a  kind  of  confection 
made  with  cumin  seeds, 
"  caraway   seeds  "  ;   V.   iii.  3. 

Care,  mind ;  I.  ii.  134. 

Cast,  calculated ;  I.  i.  166. 

Cavaleros,  cavaliers  (Quarto, 
"  cabileros"',  Folios,  "  Caui- 
leroes")  ;  V.  iii.  59. 

Censer;  "  thin  man  in  a  cen- 
ser " ;  probably  a  kind  of  cap 
like  a  censer;   (some  explain 


138 


KING  HENRY  IV. 


Glossary 


that  censers  were  made  of 
thin  metal,  and  often  had 
rudely  hammered  or  em- 
bossed figures  in  the  middle 
of  the  pierced  convex  lid)  ; 
V.  iv.  20. 

Chance ;  "  how  c,"  how  comes 
it ;  IV.  iv.  20. 

Channel,  gutter  (Pope,  "ken- 
nel"); II.  i.  48. 

Chapt,  worn,  wrinkled  (Quarto, 
Folios,  "  chopt")  ;  III.  ii.  289. 

Charge ;  "  in  c,"  i.e.  "  ready  for 
the  charge  " ;  IV.  i.  120. 

Charge,  pledge  ;  II.  iv.   126. 

Cheater;  "  a  tame  ch.,"  a  low 
gamester ;  a  cant  term 
(Quarto,  "  cheter" ;  some 
eds.,  "  chetah,"  a  leopard)  ; 
II.  iv.   102. 

Cheater,  escheator.  an  officer  of 
the  exchequer;  II.  iv.  107. 

Check,  reproof;  IV.  iii.  32. 

Checked,  reproved;  I.  ii.  212. 

Churlish,  rude,  rough ;  I.  iii.  62. 

Civil,  well-ordered ;  IV.  i.  42. 

Clapped  i'  the  clout,  hit  the 
white  mark  in  the  target 
without  effort ;  III.  ii.  50. 

Close,  make  peace;  II.  iv.  344. 

'  Cock  and  pie,'  a  slight  oath 
commonly  used;  cock,  a  cor- 


From  an  old  alehouse  sign  at  Bewdley. 


ruption  of  God  ;  pie  (=  Latin 
pica)  was  the  old  name  of 
the  Ordinate  ;  V.  i.  i. 

Coherence,  agreement,  accord ; 
V.  i.  69. 

Cold,  calm ;  V.  ii.  98. 

Coldest,   most   hopeless ;    Y.   ii. 

31- 
Colour,  pretence ;  V.  v.  87. 
Colours ;    "  fear    no     colours," 

fear  no  enemy,  fear  nothing ; 

V.  V.  89. 
Colour,  excuse ;  I.  ii.  257. 
Commandment,   command;    V. 

iii.  137. 
Commit,  commit  to  prison ;  V. 

ii.  83. 
Commodity,  profit;  I.  ii.  269. 
Commotion,  insurrection;  IV.  i. 

36. 
Companion,    fellow,    used   con- 
temptuously; II.  iv.  128. 
Complices,  accomplices,   allies ; 

I.  i.  163. 
Condition,   "  official   capacity  "  ; 

IV.  iii.  86. 
Coniirmities,  Mrs.  Q.'s  blunder 

for  infirmities;  II.  iv.  61. 
Confound,  exhaust ;  IV.  iv.  41. 
Conger,  sea-eel  (Quarto,  "  Cun- 

ger");  II.  iv.  56. 
Consent,  agreement ;  V.  i.  75. 
Consent,  agree,  decide   (Collier 

MS.,  "Consult")  ;  I.  iii.  52. 
Considerance,  consideration ;  V. 

ii.  98. 
Consigning   to,  confirming;   V. 

ii.  143- 
Consist  upon,  claim,  stand  upon 

(Rowe,  "insist")  ;  IV.  i.  187. 
Contagious,   pernicious;    V.    v. 

34- 


139 


Glossary 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Continuantly,  Mrs.  Quickly's 
blunder  for  continually 
(Quartos,,  ''  continually  ")  ; 
11.  i.  26. 

Conversations,    habits;     V.    v. 

lOI. 

Cophetua;  alluding  to  the  bal- 
lad of  King  Cophetua  and  the 
Beggar  to  be  found  in 
Percy's  Reliques  (Quarto, 
"  Couetua  "  ;  Folios,  "  Coui- 
tha")  ;  V.  iii.  102. 

Corporate,  Bullcalfs  blunder 
for  corporal;  III.  ii.  231. 

Corpse,  corpses  (Folios  i,  2, 
"Corpes";  Folios  3,  4. 
"  Corps  "  ;  Dyce,  "  corpse  ")  ; 
I.  i.  192. 

Correctioner,  one  who  inflicts 
punishment ;  V.  iv.  23. 

Cost;  "  part-created  cost," 
partly  erected  costly  build- 
ing; (Vaughan  conjectured 
"  part-erected  castle  "  ;  Herr 
conjectured  "part-erected, 
cast"  \  Keightley,  "house")  \ 
I.  iii.  60. 

Costermonger,  commercial, 

petty  dealing;  (Quarto,  "  cos- 
tar-mongers  times  " ;  Folios 
I,  2,  "  Costor-mongers  "  ;  Fo- 
lios 3,  4,  "  coster-mongers 
days")  ;  I.  ii.  181. 

Cotswold  man,  a  man  from  the 
Cotswold  Downs,  celebrated 
for  athletic  games  and  rural 
sports  of  all  kinds,  hence  an 
athlete  (Quartos,  "  Cotsole 
man  " ;  Folios,  "  Cot-sal- 
man  "  ;  Capell,  "  Cot  sail 
man")  ;  III.  ii.  22. 


Courtesy,  curtsy  (Folio  i, 
"  Curtsie " ;  Folios  2,  3,  4, 
"Curtesie  "  ;  Quarto,  "  cur- 
sie  ")  ;  Epil.  i. 

Cover,  lay  the  table;  II.  iv.  11. 

Crack,  "  a  pert  little  boy  "  ;  III. 

Crafty-sick,   feigning   sickness; 

Induct.  2)7- 
Crosses,  coins  stamped  with  a 

cross    (used  quibblingly)  ;   I. 

ii.  244. 
Crudy,  crude,  raw;  IV.  iii.  102. 
Current,     genuine,     with     pun 

upon  sterling ;  II.  i.  128. 
Curry  with,  curry  favour  with ; 

V.  i.  79. 

Cuttle,  knife  used  by  cut- 
purses,  hence,  cutpurse ;  II. 
iv.  135. 

Day,  day  of  battle,  battle;  I.  i. 
20. 

Dear,  earnest;  IV.  v.  141. 

Debate,  contest ;  IV.  iv.  2. 

Defensible,  furnishing  the 
means  of  defence  (Folio  4, 
"  sensible  ")  ;  II.  iii.  38. 

Depart,  leave ;  IV.  v.  91. 

Derives  itself,  descends ;  IV.  v. 
43- 

Descension,  descent,  decline 
(Folios,  "declension")  ',  II. 
ii.  182. 

Determined,  put  an  end  to,  set- 
tled :  IV.  V.  82. 

'Devil's  book,'  "alluding  to  the 
old  belief  that  the  Devil  had 
a  register  of  the  persons  who 
were  subject  to  him  "  ;  II.  ii. 
49.  {Cp.  illustration  in  Tam- 
ing of  Shrew.) 


140 


KING  HENRY  IV. 


Glossary 


Directly,   in    a    direct   manner, 

plainly;  IV.  ii.  52. 
Discharge,     disband,     dismiss; 

IV.  ii.  61. 
Discolours;  "  d.  the  complexion 

of     my    greatness  "  =  makes 

me  blush;  XL  ii.  5. 
Discomfort,  uneasiness  (Capell 

conjectured  "discomfit")  ;  I. 

ii.  112. 
Discoverers,   scouts    (Folios  3, 

4,  "discoveries")  ;  IV.  i.  3. 
Distemper' d,  disordered,  out  of 

health;  III.  i.  41. 
Distracted,   made    mad ;    II.    i. 

112. 
Dole,  dealing,  interchange ;  I.  i. 

169. 
Doubt,  fear,  suspect ;  Epil.  7. 
Draw,  draw  together,  muster ; 

I.  iii.   109;   withdraw;    II.   i. 

157. 
Drew,  drew  aside ;  I.  i.  72. 
Drollery,   (probably)  a  humor- 
ous painting;  II.  i.  151. 
Drooping,  declining;  Induct,  3. 
Dub  me  knight,  referring  to  the 

custom  of  the  time,  that  he 

who   drank  a  large  potation 

on  his  knees  to  the  health  of 

his  mistress,  was  said  to  be 

dubbed  a  knight,  and  retained 

the  title  for  the  evening;  V, 

iii.  74- 
Duer,     more     duly      (Quarto, 

"  dewer  " ;       Pope,       "  move 

duly");  III.  ii.  324. 
Dull,  soothing,  drowsy ;  IV.  v.  2. 

Easy,  easy  to  be  borne;  V.  ii. 

71. 
Ebon,  black,  dark;  V.  v.  37. 


Effect,  suitable  manner;   II.   i. 

Element,  sky ;  IV.  iii.  55. 
Endear' d,  bound  (Quarto,  "  en- 

deere  ")  ;  II.  iii.  11. 
Ending,  dying;  IV.  v.  80. 
Enforcement,     application      of 

force ;  I.  i.  120. 
Engaged,  bound,  tied ;  I.  i.  180. 
Engraffed    to,    firmly    attached 

to;  II.  ii.  67. 
Engrossed,  piled  up,  ama'ssed; 

IV.  V.  71. 
Engrossments,    accumulations ; 

IV.  V.  80. 
Enlarge,    extend,    widen ;    I.    i. 

204. 
Ephesians,  jolly  companions  (a 

cant  term  of  the  day)  ;  II.  ii. 

157. 

Equal  with,  cope  with ;  I.  iii. 
67. 

Ever  among,  perhaps  a  corrup- 
tion of  ever  and  anon ;  V.  iii. 
22. 

Exclamation,  outcry  against 
you ;  II.  i.  84. 

Exion,  Mrs.  Q.'s  blunder  for 
action  (Folios  3,  4,  "ac- 
tion ")  ;  II.  i.  30. 

Extraordinarily,  Mrs.  Q.'s 
blunder  for  ordinarily ;  II.  iv. 
25. 

Face-royal,  used  equivocally  for 
(i.)  a  royal  face,  and  (ii.) 
the  figure  stamped  upon  "  a 
royal,"  a  coin  of  the  value 
of  ten  shillings;  I.  ii,  26  . 

Faitors,  evil-doers  (Quarto, 
"fater";  Folios,  "Fates"); 
II.  iv.  167. 


141 


Glossary 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Familiarity,  Mrs.  Q.'s  blunder 
for  familiar  (Folios,  "fa- 
miliar") ;  II.  i.  104. 

Fancies  and  good-nights,  the 
common  title  of  little  poems ; 
III.  ii.  336. 

Fantasy,  imagination;  V.  ii.  13. 

Fear,  frighten;  IV.  iv.  121. 

Fear,  a  fearful  thing;  I.  i.  95. 

Fearful,  full  of  fear;  Induct. 
12. 

Fears,  causes  of  fear ;  IV.  v. 
196. 

Fennel,  an  inflammatory  herb; 
II.  iv.  258. 

Fetch  off,  make  a  prey  of, 
fleece;  III.  ii.  318. 

Few;  "  in  f.,"  in  a  few  words, 
in  short ;  I.  i.  112. 

Fig,  insult  by  putting  the 
thumb  between  the  fore  and 
middle  finger;  V.  iii.  118. 
(Cp.  illustration  in  Henry 
V.) 

Fillip,  strike ;  I.  ii.  246. 

Flap-dragon,  snap-dragon ;  II. 
V.  267. 

Fleet,  the  prison  for  debtors ; 
V.  V.  92. 

Flesh'd,  "  made  fierce  and  eager 
for  combat,  as  a  dog  fed  with 
flesh  only"  (Capell  conjec- 
tured "  ilush'd")  ;  I.  i.  149. 

Foin,  make  a  thrust  in  fencing; 
II.  i.  16. 

Follow'd,  followed  up  the  ad- 
vantage gained ;  I.  i.  21. 

Fond,  foolish ;  I.  iii.  91. 

Fondly,  foolishly;  IV.  ii.  119. 

Foolish-compounded,  composed 
of  absurdity;  I.  ii.  8. 

For,  in  spite  of;  I.  i.  93. 


Force  perforce,  an  emphatic 
form  of  perforce;  (Theo- 
bald's emendation  of  Folios, 
"  forc'd,  perforce");  IV.  i. 
116. 

Forehand  shaft;  "  an  arrow 
particularly  formed  for 
shooting  straight  forward, 
concerning  which  Ascham 
says  it  should  be  big 
breasted"  (Nares)  ;  (Col- 
lier MS.,  "fourehand");lll. 

ii.  51. 

Forgetive,  inventive ;  IV.  iii. 
103. 

Forspent,  utterly  worn  out  {for 
intensive)  ;  I.  i.  2)7- 

Fortune ;  "  in  the  f.,"  by  the 
good  fortune;  I.  i.  15. 

Fourteen  and  a  half,  i.e.  two 
hundred  and  ninety  yards ; 
the  maximum  distance 
reached  by  the  archers  of  the 
time  being  three  hundred 
yards;  III.  ii.  52. 

Foiitre,  an  expression  of  con- 
tempt; (Quarto,  "  fowtre" ; 
Folios,  "  footra")  ;  V.  iii.  99. 

Frank,  sty;  II.  ii.  154. 

Fright,  affright,  terrify;  I.  i.  67. 

Fubbed  off,  deluded  with  false 
promises ;  II.  i.  34. 

Fustian,  nonsensic^al ;  II.  iv. 
198. 

Fustilarian,  a  word  of  Fal- 
staff's  coinage  (?  connected 
with  "  fusty,"  or  perhaps 
from  "  fustis,"  with  refer- 
ence to  the  cudgel  of  the 
bailiff)  ;  II.  i.  61. 


Gainsaid,  contradicted:  I.  i.  91. 


142 


KING  HENRY  IV. 


Glossary 


Galled,  injured,  annoyed;  IV. 
i.  89. 

Gallozvay  nags,  a  small  and  in- 
ferior breed  of  horses ;  com- 
mon hackneys;   II.  iv.   199. 

'Gan,  began  ;  I.  i.  129. 

Garland,  crown;  V.  ii.  84. 

Gaultree,  the  ancient  forest  of 
Galtres,  to  the  north  of  the 
City  of  York  (Folios,  "  Giial- 
tree");  IV.  i.  2. 

Gave  out,  described ;  IV.  i.  23. 

G  e  r  m  a  n  hunting;  "  hunting 
subjects  were  much  in  favour 
for  the  decoration  of  in- 
teriors, and  the  chase  of  the 
wnld  boar  in  Germany  would 
naturally  form  a  spirited 
scene"  (Clarke);  Quarto, 
"  larman" ;  Folios  i,  2,  3, 
"Germane")  ;  II.  i.  152. 

Gibbets  on,  hangs  on;  alluding 
to  the  manner  of  carrying 
beer-barrels,  by  hanging" 
them  on  a  sling;  III.  ii.  277. 

Giddy,  excitable,  hot-brained ; 
IV.  V.  214. 

Gird,  jeer,  gibe;  I.  ii.  7. 

God's  light,  by  God's  light;  an 
oath;  (Folios,  "what")  ;  II. 
iv.  138. 


Good  case,  good  circumstances; 

II.  i.  III. 
Good     faith,     indeed     (Folios, 

"good-sooth");  II.  iv.  38. 
Gracing,  grafting;  V.  iii.  3. 
Grate  on,  vex,  be  offensive ;  IV. 

i.  90. 
Green,  fresh  ;  IV.  v.  204. 
Grief,    (i)    pain;    (2)    sorrow; 

I.  i.  144. 
Groat,  a  coin  of  the  value   of 

four-pence ;  I.  ii.  254. 
Grows  to,  incorporates  wnth ;  I. 

ii.  59. 
Guarded    zvith    rags,    trimmed, 

ornamented  with  rags  (Pope, 

"  goaded  "  ;    Singer,  "  rags  "  ; 

Quartos     and     Folios, 

"rage")  ;  IV.  i.  34. 

Haled,  dragged  (Quarto, 
"halde";  Folios  i.  2,  3, 
"Hall'd";  Folio  4.  "  Hal'd"; 
Pope.  "Haiild");  V.  v.  35. 

Half-kirtles,  jackets,  or  the  pet- 
ticoats attached  to  them;  V. 
iv.  24. 

Halloing,  shouting  (Quarto, 
Folios  I,  2,  "hallowing"; 
Folios  3,  4,  "hollowing")  ; 
I.  ii.  204. 


A  gold  ten  shilling  piece  of  Henry  VIII.    From  an  original  specimen. 
143 


Glossary 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Hands;  "  of  my  h.,"  of  my  size ; 

11.  ii.  72. 
Hangs,  suspends ;  IV.  i.  213, 
Haply,  mayhap,  perhaps ;   I.   1. 

Harry  ten  shillings;  "  four  H. 
t.  s.  in  French  crowns " ; 
there  were  no  ten-shilHng 
pieces  till  the  reign  of  Henry 
VII. ;  French  crowns  were 
worth  somewhat  less  than 
five  shillings  each;  III.  ii.  232. 
(Cp.  illustration.) 

Haunch,    hinder     (i.e.     latter) 

-  part ;  IV.  iv.  92. 

Hautboy,  a  wind-instrument 
(Quarto,  "hohoy";  Folios, 
"Hoe-hoy")  III.  ii.  345. 

Have  at  Jiim,  I  am  read}'^ ;  I.  ii. 
209. 

Head;  "  make  head,"  raise  an 
army;  I.  i.  168. 

Headland,  a  strip  of  un- 
ploughed  land  at  the  end  of 
the  furrows;  V.  i.  14. 

Heart,  will,  intention ;  V.  iii. 
29. 

Heat,  pursuit ;  IV.  iii.  25. 

Hence,  henceforth ;  V.  v.  53. 

Hilding,  base,  menial  (Folios, 
"  hielding  ")  \  I.  i.  57. 

Hinckley,  a  market  town  in 
Leicestershire  (Quarto, 
"  Hunkly  ")  ;  V.  i.  26. 

His,  its  (Folio  4,  "its")  ;  I.  ii. 
125. 

History,  relate ;  IV.  i.  203. 

Hold,  fastness,  fortress  (Theo- 
bald's correction  of  Quarto 
and  Folios,  ''  Hole  ") ;  In- 
duct. 35. 


Hold  sortance,  be  in  accord- 
ance; IV.  i,  II. 

Holland,  a  kind  of  linen ;  with 
a  quibble  upon  Holland ;  II. 
ii.  26. 

Honey-seed,  Mrs.  Q.'s  blunder 
for  homicide;  II.  i.  54. 

Honey-suckle,  Mrs.  Q.'s  blun- 
der for  homicidal ;  II.  i.  52. 

Hook  on,  don't  lose  sight  of 
her;  keep  close  to  her;  II.  i. 
170. 

How,  what  price;  III.  ii.  41. 

Humane,  human  (omitted  in 
Folios)  ;  IV.  iii.  129. 

Humorous,  capricious ;   IV.  iv. 

34. 
Humours  of  blood,  caprices  of 

disposition;  II.  iii.  30. 
Hunt  counter,  are  on  the  wrong 

scent ;  I.  ii.  97. 
Hurly,      hurly-burly,      tumult ; 

III.  i.  25. 
Husband,  husbandman   (Folios 

3,  4,  "husbandman")',  V.  iii. 

II. 

Imbrue,  draw  blood;  II.  iv.  204. 

Immediate,  next  in  line ;  IV.  v. 
42. 

Imp,  youngling ;  V.  v.  43. 

In,  with ;  I.  iii.  7. 

Incertain,  uncertain  (Folios  i, 
2,  "  incertain  "  ;  Folios  3,  4, 
"uncertain")  ;  I.  iii.  24. 

Incision,  draw  blood ;  II.  iv. 
204. 

Indifferency,  moderate  dimen- 
sions ;  IV.  iii.  22. 

Indited,  Mrs.  Q.'s  blunder  for 
invited;  (Folios  3,  4,  "in- 
vited") ;  II.  i.  28. 


144 


KING  HENRY  IV. 


Glossary 


Infer,  suggest;  V.  v.  14. 
Iniinitive,  Mrs.  Quickly's  blun- 
der for  infinite  ;  II.  i.  26. 
Inset,  set  (Folios,  "  set")  ;  I.  ii. 

19. 

Insinewed,  allied;  IV.  i.  172. 

Instance,  proof;  III.  i.  103. 

Intelligencer,  mediator;  IV.  ii. 
20. 

Intended,  understood;  IV.  i. 
166. 

Intervallums,  intervals;  V.  i. 
91. 

Intreasured,  stored;  III.  i.  85. 

Invested,  invested  with  author- 
ity; IV.  iv.  6. 

Investments,  vestments;   IV.  i. 

Iron  man,  armed  man,  clad  m 
armour  (Quarto,  "man  talk- 
ing") ;  IV.  ii.  8. 

7^  =  its;  (Quarto  and  Folios  i, 
2,  "it";  Folios  3,  4-  "its")  ; 
I.  ii.  123. 

It  is,  he  is;  used  contemptu- 
ously; II.  iv.  75. 

Jade,  a  term  of  pity  for  a  mal- 
treated horse ;  I.  i.  45- 

Joined-stools,  a  kind  of  folding 
chairs  ;  II.  iv.  260. 

Juggler,  trickster,  cheat ;  II.  iv. 

137- 
Juvenal,  youth ;  I.  ii.  22. 

Kccch,  "the  fat  of  an  ox  or 
cow,  rolled  up  by  the  butcher 
in  a  round  lump ;  hence  a 
name  given  to  a  butcher's 
wife  "  ;  II.  i.  97- 

Kickshaws,  trifles;  V.  i.  28. 

Kindly,  natural;  IV.  v.  84. 


Kir  tie,  a  jacket  with  a  petticoat 
attached  to  it ;  II.  iv.  288. 

'Larum-bcll,  alarm  bell ;  III.  i. 

17- 
Law,  justice;  V.  ii.  87. 
Lay,    stayed,    resided;    III.    ii. 

294. 
Leather-coats,  a  kind  of  apple, 

brown-russets;  V.  iii.  44- 
Leer,  simper,  smile ;  V.  v.  6. 
Leman,    sweetheart,    lover;    V. 

iii.  47. 
Lethe,  the  river  in  the  infernal 

regions  whose  waters  caused 

forgetfulness    (Quarto,    "  le- 

thy");  V.  ii.  72. 
Lie,  lodge;  IV.  ii.  97- 
Lief,     willingly       (Quarto, 

"Hue")  ;  I.  ii.  46- 
Lighten,  enlighten;  II.  i.  203. 
Like,       (?)       look        (Folios, 

"look")  ;  III.  ii.  91- 
Like,  likely;  I.  iii.  81. 
Liking,  likening  (Folios,  "lik'n- 

ing  him  ")  ;  II.  i.  93- 
Lined,  strengthened ;  I.  iii.  27.  _ 
Listen  after,  enquire  for;  I.  i. 

29. 

Livers,  formerly  considered  the 

seat    of   the    passions;    I.    ii. 

188. 

Loathly,  loathsome;  IV.  iv.  122. 

Look  beyond,  misjudge;  IV.  iv. 

67. 
Looked,  anticipated,   expected; 

I.  ii.  48. 
Lubber' s-head,    Libbard's-head, 
i.e.   Leopard's  head,   the   sign 
of   a    house    (Folios,    " Lub- 
bars")  ;  II.  i.  3i- 


145 


Glossary 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Lumbert  street,  Lombard- 
Street  ;  in  early  times  fre- 
quented by  the  Lombardy 
merchants  (FoHos,  "Lom- 
bard") :  II.  i.  29. 

Lusty,  lively,  merry;  III.  ii.  17. 

Malmsey-nose,  red-nosed;  II. 
i.  40. 

Malt-worms,  ale-topers;  II.  iv. 
351. 

Manage,  handle;  III.  ii.  287. 

Mandrake,  "  the  plant  Aropa 
Mandragora,  the  root  of 
which  was  thought  to  resem- 
ble the  human  figure,  and  to 
cause  madness  and  even 
death,  when  torn  from  the 
ground  "  ;  I.  ii.  16. 


The  above  illustration  (from  an  illu- 
minated MS.  in  the  British  Museum) 
shows  the  method  by  which  the  man- 
drake was  supposed  to  be  obtained. 

Man-queller,  manslayer,  mur- 
derer; II.  i.  54. 

Many,  multitude  (Douce  con- 
jectured "meyny")',  I.  iii. 
91. 

Mare,  nightmare ;  II.  i.  79. 

Marks ;  a  mark  is  of  the  value 
of  thirteen  shillings  and  four- 
pence;  I.  ii.  208. 


Marry,  a  corruption  of  Mary ; 
a  mild  form  of  oath  (Quarto, 
"Mary";  Folios,  "Why"); 
II.  ii.  42. 

Martlemas,  Martinmas,  the 
Feast  of  St.  Martin,  which 
marked  the  close  of  autumn ; 
used  figuratively  =  an  old 
man ;  II.  ii.  107. 

Matter;  "  no  such  m.,"  it  is 
nothing  of  the  kind;  Induct. 
15- 

Mechanical,  vulgar,  occupied  in 
low  drudgery;  V.  v.  36. 

Medicine  potable,  alluding  to 
the  auriim  potabile  of  the  al- 
chemists ;  IV.  V.  163. 

Melting,  softening,  pitying 
(Quarto,  "meeting");  IV. 
iv.  32. 

Mess,  "  common  term  for  a 
small  portion  of  anything  be- 
longing to  the  kitchen  " ;  II. 
i.  99. 

Met,  obtained ;  IV.  v.  186. 

Metal,  ardour,  high  courage 
(used  in  both  senses, 
"metal"  and  "mettle"); 
(Folio  4,  "metal";  Quarto, 
"  mettal" ;  Folios,  i,  2,  3, 
"Mettle");  I.  i.  116. 

Mete,  judge  of;  IV.  iv.  77. 

Mile-end  Green,  the  usual 
ground  for  military  drill,  and 
also  for  public  sports ;  III. 
ii.  293. 

Misdoubts,  apprehensions;  IV. 
i.  206. 

Miscarried,  perished;  IV.  i.  129. 

Misorder'd,  disordered ;  IV.  ii. 
33- 


146 


KING  HENRY  IV. 


Glossary 


Mistook,  mistaken,  misunder- 
stood; IV.  ii.  56. 

Mode,  form  of  things  (Quarto 
and  Folios,  "  mood  ")  ;  IV.  v. 
200. 

Model,  plans ;  I.  iii.  42. 

More  and  less,  high  and  low ;  I. 
i.  209. 

Much!  an  exclamation  of  ironi- 
cal admiration  ;  II.  iv.  139. 

Much  ill,  very  ill ;  IV.  iv.  iii. 

Muse,  wonder,  am  surprised ; 
IV.  i.  167. 

Neaf,  fist;  II.  iv,  195. 

Near,  in  the  confidence ;  V.  i. 
78. 

Neighbour  confines,  neighbour- 
ing boundaries ;  IV.  v.  124. 

New-dated,  recently  dated ;  IV. 
i.  8. 

Nice,  over-delicate,  dainty.  I.  i. 
145;  trivial,  petty,  IV.  i.  191. 

"  Nine  Worthies  "  ;  these  were 
commonly  enumerated  as  fol- 
lows :  —  Hector,  Alexander, 
and  Julius  Caesar ;  Joshua, 
David,  and  Judas  Macca- 
beus ;  Arthur,  Charlemagne, 
and  Godfrey  of  Bouillon ;  II. 
iv.  230.  (Cp.  Love's  Labour 's 
Lost.) 

Nobles,  a  gold  coin  worth  six 
shillings  and  eightpence ;  II. 
i.  161. 

Noise,  company  of  musicians: 
II.  iv.,  12.  (The  annexed  il- 
lustration, representing  two 
companies  of  noises,  is  taken 
from  Harrison's  Arches  of 
Triumph,   erected   in   honour   \ 


of  the  entry  of  James  L  into 
London,  1603.) 


No  other,  nothing  else  (Quar- 
to, ''  otherwise  ")  ;  V.  ii.  62. 

Nut-hook,  contemptuous  term 
for  a  catchpole ;  V.  iv.  8. 

Obedience,  obeisance;  IV.  v. 
147. 

Obserz>ancc,ohQ.\?>?ince,  homage; 
IV.  iii.  16. 

Observed,  deferred  to ;  IV.iv.30. 

O'er-posting,  getting  clear  of; 
I.  ii.  162. 

Offer,  menace  ;  IV.  i.  219. 

Offices,  domestic  offices,  apart- 
ments (especially  servants' 
quarters)  ;  I.  iii.  47. 

Omit,  neglect;  IV.  iv.  27. 

On,  of;  I.  iii.  102. 

One,  i.e.  mark,  score ;  pro- 
nounced "own"  (Theobald 
conjectured  "  Lone  "=:  loan  ; 
Collier  MS.,  ''score'');  II.  i. 

Opposite,  adversary,  opponent ; 
I.   iii.   55. 

Orchard,  garden;  V.  iii.  i. 

Ostentation,  outward  show;  II. 
ii.  54. 

Ouches,  ornaments;   II.  iv.  53. 

Ousel,  blackbird;  (Quarto, 
"  woosel" :  Folios,  "Ous- 
el"); III.  ii.  9. 


147 


Glossary 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Ot:f;  "will  not  out,"  will  not 
fail  you ;  a  sportsman's  ex- 
pression ;  V.  iii.  67. 

Outhreatlied,  out  of  breath,  ex- 
hausted ;  I.  i.  108. 

Overlive,  outlive;  IV.  i.  15. 

Over-rode,  caught  him  up,  out- 
rode ;  I.  i.  30. 

O  V  e  r  s  c  u  t  c  h  e  d,  (?)  over- 
scotched  or,  overwhipped ; 
(Quarto,  "  ouer-schiicJit "  ; 
Grant  White,  "  0  v  e  r- 
switched  "  ;  "  over-switched 
house-wife  "  ^  (according  to 
Ray,    a    strumpet)  ;    III.    ii. 

335. 
Overween,     think     arrogantly ; 
IV.  i.  149. 

Pantler,  the  servant  who  had 
charge  of  the  pantry ;  II.  iv. 
249. 

Parcels,  small  parts,  particu- 
lars ;  IV.  ii.  36. 

Parcel-gilt,  part-gilt,  generally 
only  the  embossed  portions ; 
II.  i.  90. 

Part,  depart ;  IV.  ii.  70. 

Part,  "  characteristic  action  "  ; 
IV.  V.  64. 

Particular ;  "  his  particular,"  its 
details ;  IV.  iv.  90. 

Passing,  surprisingly,  exceed- 
ingly; IV.  ii.  85. 

'Pauls';  "The  body  of  old  St. 
Paul's  Church  in  London  was 
a  constant  place  of  resort  for 
business  and  amusement.  Ad- 
vertisements were  fixed  up 
there,  bargains  made,  ser- 
vants hired,  and  politics  dis- 
cussed "   (Nares)  ;  I.  ii.  57. 


Pawn'd,  pledged;  IV.  ii.  112. 

Peasant,  rural,  provincial  (Col- 
lier MS.,  "pleasant")  ;  In- 
duct. 2>3- 

Peascod-time,  the  time  when 
peas  are  in  pod;  II.  iv.  403. 

Persistency,  persistency  in  evil, 
II.  ii.  50. 

Peruse,  survey,  examine ;  IV. 
ii.  94. 

Picking,  petty ;  IV.  i.  198, 

'  Pie-corner,'  near  G  i  1 1  s  p  u  r 
Street;  the  Great  Fire  ended 
at  this  corner;  II.  i.  26. 

Please  it,  if  it  please ;  I.  1.  5. 

Point,  a  signal  given  by  the 
blast  of  a  trumpet  (Collier 
MS.,  ''  report  "  ;  Singer,  "  a 
bruit")  ;  IV.  i.  52. 

Point,  a  tagged  lace,  used  to  tie 
parts  of  the  dress ;  I.  i.  53. 

Points,  mark  of  commission; 
perhaps  the  same  as  the 
shoulder-knots  worn  by  sol- 
diers and  livery  servants;  II. 
iv.  138. 

Ports,  portals,  IV.  v.  24. 

Posts,  post-horses ;   IV.  iii.  38. 

Pottle-pot,  a  tankard  holding 
two  quarts ;  II.  ii.  83. 

Power,  armed  force ;  I.  iii.  29. 

Precepts,  summonses ;  V.  i.  13. 

Precisely,  exactly ;  IV.  i.  205. 

Pregnancy,  ready  wit ;  I.  ii.  182. 

Present,  immediate ;  IV.  iii.  76. 

Presented,  represented;  V.  ii. 
79- 

Prick,  mark,  put  him  on  the 
list;    III.   ii.    119. 

Pricked  down,  marked;  II.  iv. 
349- 


148 


KING  HENRY  IV. 


Glossary 


Proface ;  "  an  Anglicized  form 
of  the  Italian  pro  vi  faccia  " ; 
"  much  good  may  it  do  you  "; 
V.  iii.  28. 

Project,  expectation ;  I.  iii.  29. 

Proof ;  "  come  to  any  proof," 
show  themselves  worth  any- 
thing when  it  comes  to  the 
test;  IV.  iii.  93. 

Proper,  handsome ;  XL  ii.  72. 

Proper,  appropriate ;  I.  iii.  32. 

Proper,  own ;  V.  ii.  109. 

Proposal,  suppose ;  V.  ii.  92. 

Piilsidge,  Mrs.  Q.'s  blunder  for 
pulse;  II.  iv.  24. 

Punish  by  the  heels,  the  techni- 
cal term  for  committing  to 
prison;  I.  ii.  133. 

Purchased;  "  used  probably  in 
its  legal  sense,  acquired  by  a 
man's  own  act,  as  opposed  to 
an  acquisition  by  descent " 
(Malone)  ;  IV.  v.  200. 

Push,  thrust ;  II.  ii.  40. 

Quantities,   small  pieces ;   V.   i. 

67. 

Quean,  contemptible  w  e  n  c  h, 
hussy;  II.  i.  48. 

Queasiness,  sickly  feeling,  nau- 
sea; I.  i.  196. 

Question;  "in  q.,"  under  judi- 
cial trial ;  I.  ii.  66. 

Quit,  safe,  free;  III.  ii.  251. 

Quittance,  requital,  return  of 
blows;  I.  i.  108. 

Quiver,  nimble ;  III.  ii.  295. 

Quoif,  cap  or  hood ;  "  sickly 
q.,"  cap  which  is  the  badge  of 
sickness ;  I.  i.  147. 

Quoit,  throw,  pitch  (Quarto, 
"  Quaite")  ;  II.  iv.  200. 


Ragged,  rugged,  rough.  Induct. 

35 ;  beggarly,  V.  ii.  38. 
Ragged'st,  roughest   (Theobald 

conjectured  "  rugged' st")  ;  I. 

i.  151- 

Ralph  (Quarto,  "  Rafe";  Fo- 
lios I,  2,  "Ralphe");  III.  ii. 
106. 

Rampallian,  an  abusive  epithet 
{cp.  "  rapscallion  ")  ;  II.  i.  61. 

Rapier,  a  small  sword  used  in 
thrusting;  II.  iv.  209. 

Rascals;  originally  lean  deer 
not  fit  to  hunt  or  kill ;  II.  iv. 

43- 
Rash,  quickly   ignited;   IV.   iv. 
48. 


From  a  fin  of  th^,  year  1728,  on  which 
are  depicted  tl  is  and  other  scenes  of 
Udrlholomew  Fair. 


149 


Glossary 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Rated,  chided ;  III.  i.  68. 

Recordation  to,  memory  of;  11. 
iii.  6i. 

Red  lattice,  an  ale-house  win- 
dow, commonly  red;  II.  ii. 
86.     (Q.  illustration.) 

Red  wheat,  late  wheat,  spring 
wheat;  V.  i.  i6. 

Rememher'd,  mentioned ;  V.  ii. 
142. 

Remembrance,  memory ;  II.  iii. 
59;  admonition;  V.  ii.  115. 

Render  d,  reported,  told ;  I.  i. 
27. 

Resolved  correction,  the  chas- 
tisement    determined     upon ; 

IV.  i.  213. 

Respect,  regard,  consideration; 

I.  i.  184. 
Rheumatic,  probably  a  blunder 

for  splenetic ;  II.  iv.  60. 
Rides   the   zvild-mare,  plays   at 

see-saw  ;  II.  iv.  259. 
Rigol,  circlet ;  IV.  v.  2)^. 
Ripe,  mature ;  IV.  i.  13. 
Rising,  insurrection ;  I.  i.  204. 
Robin  Hood,  Scarlet  and  John; 

V.  iii.     103.     (Cp.     illustra- 
tion.) 


From  the  editio i>7-inceps  (i685)  of 
Robin  Hood's  Garland. 


Rood,  cruciHx;  III.  ii.  3.     (^Cp. 
illustration.) 


From  the  MS.  Harl.,  1527. 

Roundly,  without  much  cere- 
mony ;  III.  ii.  20. 

Routs,  gangs ;  IV.  i.  33. 

Rowel-head,  the  axis  on  which 
the  wheel-shaped  points  of  a 
spur  turn ;  I.  i.  46. 

Royal  faiths,  faith  to  the  king 
(Hanmer  conjectured,  "loy- 
al") ;  IV.  i.  193. 

Sack;  generic  term  for  Spanish 
wines ;  I.  ii.  214. 

Sad,  sober,  serious;  V.  i.  89. 

Sadly,  soberly ;  V.  ii.  125. 

Samingo,  probably  a  blunder 
for  San  Domingo,  the  patron 
saint  of  topers ;  a  common 
burden  of  drinking-songs  ;  V. 

iii;  75. 
Saving  your  manhoods,  saving 

your  reverence ;  II.  i.  27. 
Scab,  a  term  of  contempt  and 

disgust ;  III.  ii.  290. 
Scattered  stray,  stragglers ;  IV. 

ii.  120. 


150 


KING  HENRY  IV. 


Glossary 


Scal'd  up,  fully  confirmed ;  IV. 
V.  104, 

Sect,  sex ;  II.  iv.  39. 

Scmhlable,  similar;  V.  i.  6g. 

Set  off,  (?)=cast  out,  ig- 
nored, or  =  rendered  account 
for  (Clarke)  ;  (perhaps  the 
phrase  is  intentionally 
vague)  ;  IV.  i.  145. 

Set  on,  begin  to  march ;  I.  iii. 
109. 

Seven  stars,  the  Pleiades ;  II. 
iv.  196. 

Shadows;  "  s.  to  fill  up  the 
muster-book,"  i.e.  "  we  have 
in  the  muster-book  many 
names  for  which  we  receive 
pay,  though  We  have  not  the 
men"  (Johnson)  ;  III.  ii.  143. 

Shall,  will;  I.  ii.  24. 

Sherris-sack,  sherry ;  a  Spanish 
wine,  so  called  from  the  town 
of  Xeres ;  IV.  iii.  99. 

Shot,  marksman;  III.  ii.  289. 

Shove-groat ;  "  s.  shilling,"  al- 
luding to  a  game  which  con- 
sisted in  pushing  pieces  of 
money  on  a  board  to  reach 
certain  marks ;  II.  iv.  200. 
(Cp.  illustration  in  Merry 
Wives. ) 

Shrewd,  mischevious ;  II.  iv. 
220. 

Shrove-tide,  a  time  of  special 
merriment,  as  the  close  of  the 
carnival  season ;  V.  iii.  36. 

Sights,  eye-holes;  IV.  i.  121. 

Sign  of  the  leg,  the  sign  over  a 
bootmaker's  shop ;  II.  iv.  262. 

Silkman,  silk  mercer;  II.  i.  29. 

Single,  simple,  silly  (used  quib- 
blingly)  ;  I.  ii.  198. 


Slops,  loose  breeches;  I.  ii.  34. 

Smack,  taste,  savour ;  I.  ii.  106. 

Smooth-pates,  sleek-h  e  a  d  e  d ; 
"  a  synonym  for  the  later  and 
more  historical  name  round- 
heads" (Quarto,  "  smoothy- 
pates")  ;  I.  ii.  42. 

Sneap,  snubbing,  rebuke;  II,  i. 
129. 

So,  so  be  it ;  III.  ii.  248. 

Soft;  "  s.  silencing,"  gently  re- 
proving ;  V.  ii.  97. 

Something  a,  a  somewhat  (Col- 
lier MS.,  ''something  of"); 
I.  ii.  2C2-3. 

Soon;  "  soon  at  night,"  this 
very  night ;  V.  v.  91. 

Sort,  manner;  IV.  v.  201. 

South,  south  wind;  II.  iv.  382. 

Spirits,  monosyllabic  (as  oft- 
en) ;  I.  i.  198. 

Spoke  on,  spoken  of  (Folios, 
"spoken  of")  ;  II.  ii.  69. 

Stand;  "  s.  my  good  lord,"  be 
my  kind  master,  patron ;  IV. 
iii.  85.  _        = 

Stand  upon,  insist  upon ;   I.  ii. 

41. 

Spirits,  monosyllabic  (as 
often)  ;  I.  i.   108. 

State  of  Hoods;  "the  majestic 
dignity  of  the  ocean"  (Ma- 
lone)  ;  (Hanmer,  "Hoods  of 
state")  ;  V.  ii.  132. 

Stick,  hesitate ;  I.  ii.  25. 

Stiff-home,  obstinately  pur- 
sued; I.  i.  177. 

Still,  continually ;  Induct.  4. 

Still-discordant,  ever-discord- 
ant; Induct.  19. 

Still-stand,  standstill ;  II.  iii.  64. 

Stomach,  appetite;  IV.  iv.  105. 


151 


Glossary 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Stops,  the  holes  in  a  wind  in- 
strument by  the  opening  or 
closing  of  which  by  the  fin- 
gers the  sounds  are  pro- 
duced; Induct.  17. 

Strained,  excessive;  I.  i.  161. 

Strange-achieved,  (?)  strange- 
ly acquired  (by  wrong 
means)  ;  according  to  some. 
"  gained  in  foreign  lands " 
(Schmidt,  "gained  and  not 
yet  enjoyed")-;  IV.  v.  72. 

Stratagem,  "  anything  amazing 
and  appalling  "  ;  I.  i.  8. 

Strengths,  armies,  forces ;  I.  iii. 
76. 

Strond,  strand ;  I.  i.  62. 

Studied,  inclined;  II.  ii.  10. 

Success,  succession,  continua- 
tion; IV.  ii.  47. 

Successively,  by  right  of  suc- 
cession ;  IV.  V.  202. 

Sufferance,  suffering;  V.  iv.  28. 

Suggestion,  temptation ;  IV.  iv. 

45. 

Supplies,  additional  forces,  re- 
serves ;  IV.  ii.  45. 

Surecard;  "  surecard  was  used 
as  a  term  for  a  boon-com- 
panion as  lately  as  the  latter 
end  of  the  last  century" 
(Malone)  ;  (Quartos,  "  Soc- 
card")  ;  III.  ii.  94- 

Suspire,  breathe;  IV.  v.  ZZ- 

Swaggerers,  bullies,  blusterers ; 

II.  iv.  80. 

Sway    on,    move    on     (Collier 

"  Let's  away  ")  ;  IV.  i.  24. 
Sivinge-hucklers,        roisterers : 

III.  ii.  23. 

Swinged,  whipped;  V.  iv.  21. 


Tables;  table-books,  memoran- 
dum books ;  II.  iv.  280. 

Ta'en  up,  taken  up,  levied 
(Quarto,  "tane";  Folios, 
"taken");  IV.  ii.  26. 

Take  the  heat,  get  the  start  of 
him;  II.  iv.  314-5. 

Take  such  order,  give  such  or- 
ders; III.  ii.  194. 

Take  up,  encounter ;  I.  iii.  y^)- 

Taking  up,  obtaining  on  trust ; 
I.  ii.  45. 

Tall,  used  ironically ;  V.  i.  62. 

Tail,  sturdy ;  III.  ii.  66. 

Tapfortap,t\\.iorid.i;  II.  i.  201. 

Tempering,  becoming  soft  like 
wax;  IV.  iii.  136. 

Temperality,  Mrs.  Q.'s  blunder 
for  temper;  II.  iv.  24. 

Tends,  contributes  (Folios, 
"tends";  Quarto,  "  in- 
tends") ;  I.  ii.  9. 

Tester,  sixpence ;  III.  ii.  291. 

Tewksbury  mustard,  mustard 
made  in  Tewkesbury;  II.  iv. 

253- 

That  that,  that  which;  IV.  iv. 

That,  so  that;  I.  i.  I97- 

Theme,  business;  I.  iii.  22. 

Thewes,  muscles  and  sinews ; 
III.  ii.  271. 

Thick,  fast ;  II.  iii.  24. 

Thin  man  in  a  censer,  evidently 
meaning  that  the  officer  wore 
the  kind  of  cap  which  is  here 
likened  to  a  censer ;  V.  iv.  20. 
(Cp.  Censer.) 

Three-man  beetle,  "  a  heavy 
rammer  with  three  handles 
used  in  driving  piles,  requir- 
ing three  men  to  wield  it " ; 
I.  ii.  246. 


152 


KING  HENRY  IV. 


Glossary 


Tilly-fally,  an  exclamation  of 
contempt ;  II.  iv.  87. 

Tirrits,  Mrs.  Q.'s  blunder  for 
(?)  terrors;  II.  iv.  213. 

To^  compared  to ;  IV.  iii.  55. 

To,  for;  III.  ii.  175. 

Tolling,  ringing  for  (Quarto, 
''  tolling  "  ;  Folios,  "  knell- 
ing") ;  I.  i.  103. 

Toward,  in  preparation ;  II.  iv. 
208. 

Toys,  trifles;  II.  iv.  178. 

Trade,  activity,  intercourse 
with;  I.  i.  174. 

Traverse,  marsh ;  III.  ii.  286. 

Trimm'd,  trimmed  up,  fur- 
nished with  (Folios,  2,  3,  4, 
"  trimm'd  up  "  ;  Vaughan, 
"  Cramm'd")  ;  I.  iii.  94. 

Trip,  defeat ;  V.  ii.  87. 

Turk;  "the  Turk,"  the  Grand 
Turk — the  Sultan  ;    III.  ii.325. 

Turnbull  street,  a  corruption  of 
Turnmill  Street,  near  Clerk- 
enwell ;  the  resort  of  bullies, 
rogues,  etc.  (Folios,  "  Turn- 
ball")  ;  in.  ii.  2>2Z. 

Twelve  score,  twelve  score 
yards;  III.  ii.  51. 

Uneasy,  uncomfortable ;  III.  i. 
10. 

Uniirm,  weak ;  I.  iii.  y^- 

Unseason'd,  unseasonable ;  III. 
i.  105. 

Up-swarm'd,  raised  in  swarms ; 
IV.  ii.  30. 

Utis ;  "  old  utis,"  great  fun 
(utis,  cp.  huit ;  originally  ap- 
plied to  the  eighth  day  of  a 
festival)  ;  II.  iv.  20. 


Vail  his  stomach,  lower  his 
haughty  pride ;  I.  i.  129. 

Valuation;  "our  v.."  the  estim- 
ation of  us ;  IV.  i.  189. 

Vmrlet,  knave,  rascal ;  V.  iii.  12. 

Vazvard,  vanguard  (Theobald 
conjectured  "rearguard"  or 
"  waneward  ")  ;  I.  ii.  190. 

Vent,  small  hole  made  for  pas- 
sage ;  Induct.  2. 

Venture,  let  us  venture;  I.  i. 
185. 

Vessel;  '  the  united  v.  of  their 
blood,'  the  vessel  of  their 
united  blood ;  IV.  iv.  44. 

Vice,  grip,  grasp  (Quarto, 
"  view")  ;  II.  i.  22. 

Vice's  dagger,  the  wooden  dag- 
ger carried  by  the  Vice  of  the 
old    Morality   plays;    III.    ii. 

Wanton,  luxurious,  effiminate ; 
I.  i.  148. 

Warder,  staff  of  command ;  IV. 
i.  125. 

Wassail  candle,  a  large  candle 
lighted  up  at  a  feast ;  I.  ii. 
169. 

Watch-case,  sentry-box;  III.  i. 
17. 

Water-work,  water  colours;  II. 
i.  152. 

Well  conceited,  clevered,  re- 
torted; V.  i.  Z7- 

Well  encounter' d,  well  met ;  IV. 
ii.  I. 

What,  an  exclamation  of  im- 
patience ;  V.  i.  2. 

What,  who;  I.  i.  2. 


153 


Glossary 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


IVhaf  the  good-year,  supposed 
lo  be  a  corruption  from  gou- 
jere,  i.e.  the  French  disease; 
a  mild  oath ;  TI.  iv,  62. 

Wheeson.  Whitsun ;  (Folios, 
"Whit son")',  IT.  i.  92. 

Whipping-cheer,  whipping  fare ; 
V.  iv.  5.   {Cp.  illustration.) 

Who,  which;  V.  ii.  128. 

Winking,   closing   his   eyes;    I. 

With,  by;  I.  i.  204. 

Withal,  with ;  IV.  ii.  95. 

Within  a  ken,  in  sight;  IV.  i. 
151. 

'  Witness' d  usurpation  '  =  "  wit- 
nesses, or  traces,  of  its  usur- 
pation "  ;  I.  i.  63. 

JVoe-begone,  overwhelmed  with 
grief;  (Bentley  conjectured 
"  Ucalegon '')  )  I.  i.  71. 

JJ'oman-queller,  woman-killer  : 
II.  i.  55- 

Woncot,  Wilnecote,  a  village 
near  Stratford  (Collier  MS., 
"  Wilnecot")  ;  V.  i.  40. 

Wo't,  wouldst;  "Thou  wo't, 
wo't  thou  ?  thou  wo't,  wo't 
ta?"  (Quarto,  ''thou  wot, 
wot  thou,  thou  zvot,  wot  ta" ; 
Folios,  "  Thou  wilt  not?  thou 
wilt  not?  ")\  II.  I  59. 


Wrought  the  mure,  worn  away 
the  wall ;  IV.  iv.  119. 

Yea-forsooth  knave ;  "  one  say- 
ing yea  and  forsooth  ;  allud- 
ing to  the  mild  quality  of  citi- 
zen oaths  "  ;  I.  ii.  40. 

Yeoman,  a  kind  of  under-bailiff, 
sheriff's  officer;  II.  i.  3. 

Yet,  still ;  I.  i.  82. 

Zeal;  "  z.  of  God,"  i.e.  "devo- 
tion to  God's  cause"  (Capell 
conjectured  "seal")  ;  IV.  ii. 
27. 


Whipping-cheer. 
From  an  engraving  by  Fairholt. 


154 


KING  HENRY  IV. 


Critical  Notes. 


BY   ISRAEL   GOLLANCZ. 


Induction.  'Enter  Rumour,  painted  full  of  tongues'  so  Quarto; 
Folios,  'Enter  Rumour.'  In  ancient  pageants  Rumour  was  often 
represented  as  apparelled  in  a  robe  '  full  of  toongs ' ;  Stephen 
Hawes,  in  his  Pastime  of  Pleasure,  describes  Rumour  as 

"A  goodly  lady,  environed  about 
WitJi  tongues  of  fire." 

Similarly  Chaucer,  House  of  Fame,  298-300.  Probably  the  idea 
was  ultimately  derived  from  Virgil,  JEneid.  IV.  173-188. 

Induct.  6.  '  tongues'  so  Quarto ;  Folios,  '  tongue.' 

Induct.  8.  '  men,'  so  Quarto ;  Folios,  '  them.' 

I.  i.  62.  'whereon,'  so  Quarto;  Folios,  'when.' 

I.  i.  66.  'Hateful  death  put  on  his  ugliest  mask.  Cp.  the  accom- 
panying illustration  from  a  specimen  formerly  used  in  the  Tod- 
tentanz,  and  preserved  in  the  old  German  Museum  of  Nuremberg. 

I.  i.  164.  '  Lean  ' ;  Quarto,  '  leaue  ' ;  '  your  ' ;  Quarto,  '  you.' 

I.  i.  166-179;    189-209;    omitted  in  Quarto.  

I.  ii.  8.  'foolish-compounded  clay,  man'; 
Quarto  and  Folios,  '  foolish  compounded  clay- 
man.' 

I.  ii.  39.  'his  tongue  he  hotter,'  alluding  to 
the  rich  man  in  the  Parable,  Luke  xvi.  24. 

I.  li.  40.  'a  rascally  yca-forsooth  knave''. 
Quarto,  '  rase  all.' 

I.  ii.  61,  62.  '  here  comes  the  nobleman  zvho 
committed  the  prince,'  etc. ;  this  was  Sir  Wil- 
liam Gascoigne,  Chief  Justice  of  the  King's 
Bench.     Cp.    illustration  to  note  on  V.  ii.  z^. 

I.  ii.  129.  In  Quarto  the  prefix  '  Old '  is 
given  instead  of  Fal( staff),  cp.  Preface. 

I.  ii.  180.  'I  cannot  go;  I  cannot  tell';  Johnson  was  probably 
right  in  seeing  here  a  play  on  go  and  tell  in  the  sense  of  '  pass 
current'  and  '  count  as  good  money.' 


155 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

I.  ii.  229.  'spit  white';  cp.  Batman  uppon  Bartholome,  ed. 
1582  (quoted  by  Dr.  Furnivall)  : — "If  the  spittle  be  zvhite  viscus, 
the  sickness  cometh  of  fleam;  if  black,  of  melancholy;  the  white 
spittle  not  knottie  signiHeth  health."  Other  passages  indicate  that 
it  was  also  regarded  as  a  sign  of  thirst. 

I.  ii.  232-238.  Omitted  in  Folios. 

I.  iii.  36-55.  Omitted  in  Quarto. 

I.  iii.  z^,  etc. 

'If  this  present  quality  of  war 
Indeed  the  instant  action:  a  cause  on  foot,"  etc. 

Various  attempts  have  been  made  to  restore  the  meaning  of  the 
lines.     Malone's  reading  has  been  generally  accepted: — 

'  Yes,  in  this  present  quality  of  war: 
Indeed  the  instant  action — a  cause  on  foot — 
Lives  so  in  hope  as  in  an  early  spring/ 

which  Grant  White  paraphrases,  "  Yes,  in  this  present  quality, 
function,  or  business  of  war,  it  is  harmful  to  lay  down  likelihoods, 
etc.  Indeed  this  very  action  or  affair — a  cause  on  foot — is  no  more 
hopeful  of  fruition  than  the  buds  of  an  unseasonably  early  spring." 
Pope  proposed  "Impede  the  instant  act";  Johnson,  "in  this  pres- 
ent. .  .  .  Indeed  of  instant  action";  Mason,  "if  this  prescient 
quality  of  war  Induc'd  the  instant  action,"  etc. 

T.  iii.  71.  '  against  the  French.'  A  French  army  of  12,000  men 
landed  at  Milford  Haven  in  Wales,  for  the  aid  of  Glendower,  dur- 
ing this  rebellion. 

I.  iii.  85-108.  Omitted  in  Quarto. 

II.  i.  162.  'so  God  save  me,  la!  ';  Quarto,  'so  God  save  me 
law ' ;  Folios, '  in  good  earnest  la.' 

II.  ii.  26-30.  Omitted  in  Folios. 

II.  ii.  80.  'virtuous';  Folio,  'pernicious' ;  Capell  conjectured 
'precious.' 

II.  ii.  92.  '  Alth(sa  ' ;  the  boy  here  confounds  Althaea's  firebrand 
with  Hecuba's ;   perhaps  the  blunder  was  the  poet's. 

II.  ii.  121.  'borrower's  cap';  Theobald's  emendation;  Folios 
and  Quarto,  '  borrowed  cap.' 

II.  ii.  180.  '  leathern  jerkins,'  commonly  worn  by  vintners  and 
tapsters. 

II.  iii.  12.  '  heart's  dear  Harry  ' ;    Folios,  '  heart-deere-Harry.' 

II,  iii.  19.  'thee  grey  vault  of  heaven']    cp.  the  use  of  'grey* 

156 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Notes 

applied  to  the  eyes,  where  we  generally  use  'blue';  'grey-eyed 
morn'  {Romeo  and  Juliet,  II.  iii.  i)  may  perhaps  illustrate  the 
same  fact. 

II.  iv.  35.  '  When  Arthur  first  in  court';  from  the  ballad  of  Sir 
Lancelot  du  Lake,  printed  in  Percy's  Reliques. 

11.  iv.  51.  'your  broocJies,  pearls,  and  ouches'',  a  scrap  of  an 
old  ballad,  first  marked  as  a  quotation  by  Capell. 

II.  iv.  56,  57.  Omitted  in  Folios. 

II.  iv.  115.  Pistol  has  been  likened  to  the  character  of  'the 
swaggering  ruffian,'  Centurio,  in  the  famous  Spanish  play  by 
Rojas,  called  Celestina,  which  was  translated  into  English  by 
James  Mabbe ;  and  though  entered  on  the  Stationers'  Register  in 
1598,  the  translation  was  not  issued  till  1630.  It  is  more  than 
probable  that  Mabbe  was  one  of  Shakespeare's  friends;  at  all 
events,  the  dramatist  may  easily  have  read  the  English  Tragicke- 
Comedye  of  Celestina  in  MS.  (Mabbe's  fascinating  book  has  re- 
cently been  reprinted  as  a  volume  of  Mr.  Nutt's  Tudor  Trans- 
lations.) 

II.  iv.  137.  'Since  when,  I  pray  you,  sir?'  a  scoffing  form  of 
enquiry. 

II.  iv.  142,  143.  Omitted  in  Folios. 

II.  iv.  168.  'Have  zve  not  Hiren  here?'  probably  a  quotation 
from  a  lost  play  by  George  Peele  called  The  Turkish  Mahomet 
and  Hyren  the  Fair  Greek ;  '  Hiren,'  a  corruption  of  '  Irene.' 

II.  iv.  173.  'And  hollow  pamper d  jades  of  Asia';  cp.  2  Tam- 
biirlainc,  IV.  iv. : — 

"  Holla,  ye  pamper' d  jades  of  Asia! 
What !  can  ye  draw  but  tzventy  miles  a  day?  " 

II.  iv.  177.  'Let  tJie  ivelkin  roar';  a  commonplace  tag  in  old 
ballads  of  the  time. 

II.  iv.  187.  'Then  feed,  and  be  fat,  my  fair  Calipolis';  a  bur- 
lesque of  passages  in  Peele's  Battle  of  Alcazar  (1594)  ;  Muley 
Mahomet  enters  to  his  wife  with  lion's  flesh  on  his  sword,  and 
says,  'Feed  then,  and  faint  not,  my  fair  Calipolis.' 

II,  iv.  189.  'Si  fortune  me  tormente,  sperato  me  contento';  the 
line,  probably  purposely  corrupted,  was  restored  by  Hanmer : — 
'  Si  fortuna  mc  tormenta,  il  sperare  me  contenta'  {i.e.  '  If  fortune 
torments  me,  hope  contents  me  ').  "  Pistol  is  only  a  copy  of  Han- 
nibal   Gonsaga,"    remarked    Farmer,    "  who   vaunted   on    yielding 

157 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

himself  a  prisoner,  as  you  may  read  in  an  old  collection  of  tales, 
called  Wits,  Fits,  Fancies: — 


'Si  Fortiina  mc  tormenta, 
II  speranca  me  contenta.' 


l^ 


r 


From  an  old  French  rapier  formerly  in  the  Douce  collection. 

II.  iv.  205.  '  Then  death  rock  me  asleep,'  etc. ;  said  to  be  a  frag- 
ment of  an  old  song  written  by  Anne  Boleyn. 

II.  iv.  207.  'Untwine  the  Sisters  Three';  cp.  Midsummer- 
Night's  Dream,  V.  i.  343-348,  where  there  is  a  reference  to  the 
'  shears  '  of  Atropos,  the  Fate  that  cut  the  thread  of  human  des- 
tiny. 

II.  iv.  279.  '  Fiery  Trigon ' ;  alluding  to  the  astrological  division 
of  the  zodiacal  signs  into  four  trigons  or  triplicities;  one  consisting 
of  the  three  fiery  signs  (Aries,  Leo,  and  Sagittarius)  ;  the  others, 
respectively,  of  three  airy,  three  watery,  and  three  earthly  signs. 
When  the  three  superior  planets  were  in  the  three  fiery  signs  they 
formed  a  fiery  trigon ;  when  in  Cancer,  Scorpio,  and  Pisces,  a 
zvatery  one,  etc. 

III.  i.  The  whole  scene  omitted  in  Quarto  i  {i.e.  the  earlier 
copies  of  the  edition). 

III.  i.  30.  'Then  happy  lozv,  lie  dozvn!';  Quarto  reads  'Then 
(happy)  low  lie  dozvne.'  Coleridge  suggested  '  Then  happy  lozv- 
lie-dozvn' ;  Warburton,  'happy  lowly  dozen.'  The  Folio  seems 
to  make  the  meaning  quite  clear : — '  Then  happy  Lowe,  lye 
downe ' ;  '  low  '  is  used  substantively,  '  You  who  are  happy  in 
your  humble  situations,  lay  down  your  heads  to  rest,'  etc. 

III.  i.  43.  '  little,'  i.e.  '  a  little.' 

III.  i.  53-56.  Omitted  in  Folios. 

Ill  i.  66.  'cousin  Nevil' ;  the  earldom  of  Warwick  did  not 
come  into  the  family  of  the  Nevilles  till  the  latter  part  of  the  reign 
of  Henry  VI. ;  at  this  time  it  was  in  the  family  of  Beauchamp. 

III.  ii.  'Justice  Shallozv' ;  the  character  has,  with  much  rea- 
son, been  identified  with  Sir  Thomas  Lucy  of  Charlecote  {cp.  The 
Merry  Wives  of  Windsor)  ;  perhaps  there  is  a  reference  to  his 
arms  in  the  words,  'If  the  young  dace  he  a  bait  for  the  old  pike, 

158 


KING  HENRY  IV. 


Notes 


/  see  no  reason  in  the  lazu  of  nature  but  I  may  snap  at  line'  (cp. 
infra,  11.  351,352;  '  luce '  =  ' pike,'  cp.  Note,  line  i,  Merry  Wives 
of  Windsor) . 

Ill,  ii.  26.  '  Then  was  Jack  Falstaff,  now  Sir  John,  a  hoy,  and 
page  to  Thomas  Mowbray,  Duke  of  Norfolk.'  This  is  generally- 
given  as  one  of  the  points  of  evidence  that  Falstaff  was  originally 
called  Oldcastle,  Sir  John  Oldcastle  having  actually  been  in  his 
youth  page  to  the  Duke  of  Norfolk :  but  it  would  seem  that  the 
same  is  true  of  Sir  John  Fastolf. 

III.  ii.  31.  '/  see  (Folios,  'saw')  him  break  Skogan's  head' 
(Quarto,  Skoggins;  Folio  i,  '  Scoggans')  ;  two  Scogans  must  be 
carefully  differentiated,  though  probably  both  are  confused  by 
Shakespeare  in  this  passage: — (i.)  Henry  Scogan,  the  poet.  Chau- 
cer's Scogan,  described  by  Ben  Jonson  in  The  Fortunate  Isles,  as 

"a  fine  gentleman,  and  master  of  arts 
Of  Henry  the  Fourth's  times,  that  made  disguises 
For  the  King's  sons,  and  writ  in  ballad  royal 
Daintily  well" ; 

(ii.)  John  Scogan,  "  an  excellent  mimick,  and  of  great  pleasantry 
in  conversation,  the  favourite   buffoon   of  the   court  of   Edward 


From  Faithome's  Map  of  Londo7i.  1658,  the  only  known  copy  of 
which  is  preserved  in  the  National  Library  at  Paris. 


Notes 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


IV."  A  book  of  '  Scogins  Jests'  was  published  in  1565  by  An- 
drew Borde,  and  probably  suggested  the  name  to  Shakespeare. 

III.  ii.  140.  'but  flinch  of  the  father's  substance' ;  so  Quarto: 
Folios,  'not';  the  Variorum  of  1821  proposed  'not  much';  the 
Quarto  reading  must  be  understood  as  ironical. 

III.  ii.  203.  'The  ivindmill  in  St.  George's  Held';  (cp.  illus- 
tration). 

III.  ii.  294.  '  Dagonct  in  ArtJiurs  shozv';  Sir  Dagonet  is  Ar- 


T/ie  Kmghts  of  the  Rojiud  Table  (see  note  on  III.  ii.  294) 
From  an  illuminated  MS.  of  Lancelot  (No  676)  in  the  National  Library  at  Paris. 

thur's  fool  in  the  story  of  Tristram  de  Lyonesse ;  'Arthur's  shoiu  ' 
was  an  exhibition  of  archery  by  a  society  of  58  members  which 
styled  itself  "  The  Ancient  Order,  Society,  and  Unitie  laudable  of 
Prince  Arthur  and  his  Knightly  Armory  of  the  Round  Table," 

160 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Notes 

and  took  the  names  of  the  knights  of  the  old  Romance.  Mul- 
caster  referred  to  it  in  his  Positions,  concerning  the  training  up 
of  children  (1581).  The  meeting-place  of  the  society  was  Mile- 
end  Green.  (The  names  of  the  knights  of  the  old  romance  may 
be  well  illustrated  by  the  illustration  on  the  next  page.) 

III.  ii.  331.  'invisible';  Rowe's  emendation;  Quarto  and  Fo- 
lios, 'invincible.'  i.e.  (?)  "not  to  b^  evinced,  not  to  be  made 
out,  indeterminable  "  (Schmidt). 

III.  ii.  2>2)2,32>2>-  'y(^i  •  •  •  mandrake' ;  340-343,  'a  came 
.     .     .     good-nights';   omitted  in  Folios. 

III.  ii.  349.  'philosopher's  two  stones';  "one  of  which  was  an 
universal  medicine,  the  other  a  transmuter  of  base  metals  into 
gold  "  ;  so  Warburton ;  Malone  explains  : — "  I  will  make  him  of 
twice  the  value  of  the  philosopher's  stone." 

IV.  i.  55-79.  Omitted  in  Quarto. 

IV.  i.  71.  'there';  the  reading  of  the  Folios;  Hanmer  con- 
jectured '  sphere  ' ;    Collier  '  chair.' 

IV.  i.  93.  Neither  this  line  nor  95  is  to  be  found  in  the  Folios, 
and  they  are  omitted  in  some  copies  of  the  Quarto.  To  some 
corruption  of  the  text  is  due  the  obscurity  of  11.  94-96,  which 
Clarke  paraphrases : — "  The  grievances  of  my  brother  general,  the 
commonwealth,  and  the  home  cruelty  to  my  born  brother,  cause 
me  to  make  this  quarrel  my  own."  The  archbishop's  brother 
had  been  beheaded  by  the  King's  order. 

IV.  i.  103-139.  Omitted  in  Quarto. 

IV.  i.  173.  'true  substantial  form,'  i.e.  '  m  due  form  and  legal 
validity.' 

IV.  iii.  43.  'hook-nosed  fellow  of  Rome';  Quarto  adds  'there 
cosin'  before  'I  came'  which  Johnson  took  to  be  a  corruption 
of  '  there,  Ccesar.' 

IV.  iii.  121,  122.  'commences  it  and  sets  it  in  act  and  use'; 
Tyrwhitt  saw  in  these  words  an  allusion  "to  the  Cambridge  Com- 
mencement and  the  Oxford  Act;  for  by  those  different  names 
the  two  Universities  have  long  distinguished  the  season  at  which 
each  gives  to  her  respective  students  a  complete  authority  to  use 
those  hoards  of  learning  which  have  entitled  them  to  their  sev- 
eral degrees." 

IV.  iv.  35.  'as  flaws  congealed  in  the  spring  of  day':  according 
to  Warburton  the  allusion  is  "  to  the  opinion  of  some  philosophers 
that  the  vapours  being  congealed  in  the  air  by  the  cold  (which  is 
most  intense  in  the  morning),  and  being  afterwards  rarefied  anl 
let  loose  by  the  warmth  of  the  sun,  occasion  those  sudden  a;iJ 

161 


Notes 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


impetuous  gusts  of  wind  which  are  called  flaws";  Malone 
explained  '  Haws '  to  mean  "  small  blades  of  ice  which  are  stuck 
on  the  edges  of  the  water  in  winter  mornings." 

IV.  iv.  122.  '  loathly  births  of  nature/  i.e.  unnatural  births. 

IV.  V.  205.  'And  all  my  friends';  Tyrwhitt's  conjecture  for 
'  thy  friends '  of  the  Folios  and  Quarto.  Dyce  '  my  foes/  Clarke 
explains  the  original  reading  thus : — "  By  the  first  thy  friends  the 
King  means  those  who  are  friendly  inclined  to  the  prince,  and 
who,  he  goes  on  to  say,  must  be  made  securely  friends." 

IV.  V.  235.  "Tis  called  Jerusalem' ',  probably  from  the  tapes- 
tries of  the  history  of  Jerusalem  with  which  it  was  hung;  now 
used  for  the  meetings  of  Convocation. 

V.  i.  31,  32.  'A  friend  i'  court  is  better  tlian  a  penny  in  purse'; 
cp.  The  Romaunt  of  the  Rose,  5540: — 


For  frcnde  in  court  aic  better 
Than  peny  is  i  npurse,  certis" 


IS 


Camden  gives  the  same  proverbial  expression. 

V.  ii.  38.  'A  ragged  and  forestall'd  remission' ;  '  forestall' d  has 
been  variously  interpreted;  the  simplest  interpretation  seems  to 
be  '  anticipated,  asked  for  before  being  granted,'  not  necessarily 
by  the  Chief-Justice  himself,  but  by  his  friends ;  the  explanation 
fits,  in  well  with  the  dignified  utterance  of  the  speaker.  Others 
explain,  '  a  pardon  that  is  sure  not  to  be  granted,  the  case  having 
been  prejudged  ';  'a  pardon  which  is  precluded  from  being  abso- 
lute, by  the  refusal  of  the  offender  to  accuse  or 
~  alter  his  conduct,'  etc.     (The  accompanying  figure, 

from  a  monument  in  Deerhurst  Church,  Glouces- 
tershire, represents  the  costume  of  a  judge  of  the 
time  of  Henry  IV.) 

V.  iii.  7i.  'Do  me  right';  'to  do  a  man  right' 
was  formerly,  according  to  Steevens,  the  usual  ex- 
pression in  pledging  healths. 

'And  dub  me  knight' ;  it  was  a  custom  in  Shake- 
speare's day  to  drink  a  bumper  kneeling  to  the 
health  of  one's  mistress.  He  who  performed  this 
exploit  was  dubbed  a  knight  for  the  evening,  cp.  A 
Yorkshire  Tragedy,  "They  call  it  knighting  in  Lon- 
don when  they  drink  upon  their  knees"  (Malone). 
V.  iii.  121.  'Dead?  As  nail  in  door';  an  ancient 
proverbial  expression  ;  the  door-nail  was  probably 
lIic  nail  on  which  the  knocker  struck.     "'  It  is  there- 

162 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Notes 

fore  used  as  a  comparison  to  any  one  irrevocably  dead,  one  who 
has  fallen  (as  Virgil  says)  multa  morte,  that  is,  with  abundant 
death,  such  as  iteration  of  strokes  on  the  head  would  naturally 
produce." 

V.  iii.  141.  '  Where  is  the  life  that  late  I  led ' ;  a  scrap  of  an  old 
song;  cp.  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  IV.  i. 

V.  V.  28.  'absque  hoc  nihil  est,'  ''tis  all  in  every  part';  the 
second  and  later  Folios  correct  '  obsque '  to  '  absque,'  but  the 
error  may  have  been  intentional  on  the  author's  part.  Pistol  uses 
a  Latin  expression  '  ever  the  same,  for  without  this  there  is 
nothing,'  and  then  goes  on  to  allude  to  an  English  proverbial 
expression,  "  All  in  all,  and  all  in  every  part,"  which  he  seems  to 
give  as  its  free  rendering. 

V.  V.  108.  '  7  heard  a  bird  so  sing  ' ;  a  proverbial  expression 
still  extant. 

Epilogue.  Shakespeare's  authorship  of  this  epilogue  has  been 
doubted,  and  it  has  been  described  as  '  a  manifest  and  poor  imi- 
tation of  the  epilogue  to  As  You  Like  If.'  It  is  noteworthy  that 
it  occurs  already  in  the  Quarto  (1600),  though  with  one  im- 
portant difference ;  the  words  '  and  so  kneel  dozen  .  .  .  queen  ' 
(11-  3^y  ^7)  are  printed  there  at  the  end  of  the  first  paragraph, 
after  '  infinitely.'  It  seems  probable,  therefore,  that  the  epilogue 
originally  ended  there,  and  that  the  remaining  lines  were  added 
somewhat  later.  One  is  strongly  tempted  to  infer  that  the  addi- 
tions to  the  epilogue  were  called  forth  by  the  success  of  the  first 
and  second  parts  of  the  play  of  Sir  John  Oldcastle,  written  evi- 
dently to  vindicate  the  character  of  Falstaff's  original,  and  put 
on  the  stage  as  a  counter-attraction  to  Henry  IV.,  hence  the 
words,  added  in  a  spirit  of  playful  defiance,  'for  Oldcastle  died  a 
martyr,  and  this  is  not  the  man'  (1.  2>3)-  The  first  part  of  Sir 
John  Oldcastle  was  performed  for  the  first  time  about  the  ist  of 
November  1599,  the  second  part,  dealing  with  the  Lollard's  death, 
wase  evidently  written  by  the  end  of  the  year.  The  First  Part 
of  the  true  and  honourable  history  of  the  Life  of  Sir  John  Old- 
castle, the  good  Lord  Cobham,  appeared  in  two  editions  in  1600; 
Shakespeare's  name  had  been  impudently  printed  on  the  title- 
page  of  the  former  and  less  correct  edition ;  the  authors  were 
Munday,  Drayton,  Wilson,  and  Chettle.  The  '  Second  Part '  is 
not  known  to  exist. 

1.  28.  '  our  humble  author  will  continue  the  story,  with  Sir 
John  in  it,  and  make  you  merry  with  fair  Katharine  in  France ' ; 
Shakespeare  changed  his  mind.     "  The  public  was  not  to  be  in- 

163 


Notes 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


dulged  in  laughter  for  laughter's  sake  at  the  expense  of  his  play. 
The  tone  of  the  entire  play  of  Henry  V.  would  have  been  altered 
if  Falstaff  had  been  allowed  to  appear  in  it.  .  .  .  Agincourt 
is  not  the  field  for  splendid  mendacity.  .  .  .  There  is  no  place 
for  Falstaff  any  longer  on  earth ;  he  must  find  refuge  '  in  Ar- 
thur's bosom.'  "  But  the  public  would  not  absolve  "  our  humble 
author  of  his  promise,  and  they  were  to  make  merry  again  with 
their  favourite 

'round  about  the  oak 
Of  Heme  the  hunter.'" 


Interior  of  an  Elizabethan  Inn,  Rochester. 
From  an  engraving  by  Fairholt. 


164 


KING  HENRY  IV, 


Explanatory  Notes. 


The  Explanatory  Notes  in  this  edition  have  been  specially  seUcted  and 
adapted,  with  emendations  after  the  latest  and  best  authorities,  from  the 
most  eminent  Shakespearian  scholars  and  commentators,  including  Johnson, 
Malone,  Steevens,  Singer,  Dyce,  Hudson,  White,  Furness,  Dowden,  and 
others.  This  method,  here  introduced  for  the  first  time,  provides  the  best 
annotation  of  Shakespeare  ever  embraced  in  a  single  edition. 


INDUCTION. 

[Enter  Rumour,  painted  full  of  tongues.]  Judge  Holmes  and 
other  commentators  have  called  attention  to  the  following  from 
Bacon's  essay,  0/Fa;n£':  "The  poets  make  Fame  a  monster:  they 
describe  her  in  part  finely  and  elegantly ;  and.  in  part  gravely  and 
sententiously ;  they  say,  Look  how  many  feathers  she  hath:  so 
many  eyes  she  hath  underneath,  so  many  tongues,  so  many 
voices,  she  pricks  up  so  many  ears.  This  is  a  flourish.  There 
follow  excellent  parables;  as  that  she  gathereth  strength  in 
going ;  that  she  goeth  upon  the  ground,  and  yet  hideth  her  head 
in  the  clouds ;  that  in  the  daytime  she  sitteth  in  a  watch-tower, 
and  flieth  most  by  night;  that  she  mingleth  things  done  with 
things  not  done,  and  that  she  is  a  terror  to  great  cities."  This 
description  is  almost  a  literal  translation  of  that  given  of  Fama 
by  Virgil, 

35.  this  worm-eaten  hold: — Northumberland's  residence,  Wark- 
worth  Castle. 

ACT  FIRST. 
Scene  I. 

6.  [Enter  Northumberland.]  Holinshed  gives  these  particu- 
lars :  "  The  King  was  minded  to  have  gone  into  Wales  against 
the  Welsh  rebels,  that,  under  their  chieftain  Owen  Glendower, 
ceased  not  to  do  much  mischief  still  against  the  English  subjects. 
But  at  the  same  time,  to  his  further  disquieting,  there  was  a  con- 

x65 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

spiracy  put  in  practice  against  him  at  home  by  the  Earl  of  North- 
umberland, who  had  conspired  with  Richard  Scroope,  Archbishop 
of  York,  Thomas  Mowbray,  earl  marshall,  son  to  Thomas,  Duke 
of  Norfolk,  who  for  the  quarrel  betwixt  him  and  King  Henry 
had  been  banished,  the  Lords  Hastings,  Fauconbridge,  Bardolfe, 
and  diverse  others.  It  was  appointed  that  they  should  meet  alto- 
gether with  their  whole  power  upon  Yorkswold,  at  a  day  as- 
signed, and  that  the  Earl  of  Northumberland  should  be  chieftain, 
promising  to  bring  with  him  a  great  number  of  Scots.  The  arch- 
bishop, accompanied  with  the  earl  marshall,  devised  certain  ar- 
ticles of  such  matters  as  it  was  supposed  that,  not  only  the  com- 
monalty of  the  realm,  but  also  the  nobility,  found  themselves 
grieved  with :  which  articles  they  showed  first  unto  such  of  their 
adherents  as  were  near  about  them,  and  after  sent  them  abroad  to 
their  friends  further  off,  assuring  them  that,  for  redress  of  such 
oppressions,  they  would  shed  the  last  drop  of  blood  in  their 
bodies,  if  need  were." 

47.  devour  the  zcay: — So  in  Job,  xxxix.  24:  "He  swallowcth 
the  ground  with  fierceness  and  rage."  The  same  expression  oc- 
curs in  Ben  Jonson's  Sejanus:  "But  with  that  speed  and  heat  of 
appetite,  with  which  they  greedily  devour  the  way  to  some  great 
sports." 

209.  more  and  less: — Great  and  small  in  rank;  high  and  low. 

Scene  II. 

I.  The  practice  of  diagnosing  diseases  by  the  mere  examination 
of  urine  was  once  so  much  in  fashion  that  Linacre,  the  founder  of 
the  College  of  Physicians,  formed  a  statute  to  restrain  apothe- 
caries from  carrying  the  water  of  their  patients  to  a  doctor,  and 
afterwards  giving  medicines  in  consequence  of  the  opinions  pro- 
nounced concerning  it.  This  statute  was  followed  by  another, 
which  forbade  the  doctors  themselves  to  pronounce  on  any  dis- 
order from  such  an  uncertain  diagnosis. 

7.  Men  of  all  sorts  take  a  pride  to  gird  at  me: — This  passage 
might  be  aptly  quoted  as  proving  that  with  Falstaff  the  main  busi- 
ness of  life  is  to  laugh  and  provoke  laughter.  He  is  manifestly 
himself  proud  of  the  pride  that  others  take  in  girding  at  him ; 
enjoys  their  quips  even  more  perhaps  than  they  do,  because  he  is 
the  begetter  of  them;  as  being  the  flint  which  alone  can  draw 
forth  sparks  from  their  steel,  and  himself  shining  by  the  light  he 

166 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Notes 

causes  them  to  emit.  And  in  what  he  says  just  after  to  the  Page 
we  see  that  much  as  he  values  the  things  that  minister  to  his 
"  huge  hill  of  flesh,"  he  values  that  hill  itself  still  more  as  min- 
istering opportunities  of  saying  fine  things ;  and  that  he  would 
not  spare  an  ounce  from  that  bulk  out  of  which  he  can  extract 
occasion  for  such  prodigies  of  humour. 

40.  a  rascally  yea-forsooth  knave! — Shakespeare  here  alludes  to 
the  mild  quality  of  citizen  oaths,  which  excites  no  less  disgust  in 
Falstaff  than  in  Hotspur — affording  an  edifying  comment  on  the 
strange  points  that  afford  self-complacency  to  those  who  plume 
themselves  on  their  aristocratic  superiority  and  patrician  super- 
excellence.  Very  noteworthy  is  it  that  even  while  arousing  our 
highest  admiration  at  the  spirited  lines  w4th  which  he  has  limned 
Harry  Percy,  or  at  the  unction  of  blended  wit  and  humour  with 
which  he  makes  Sir  John  fabricate  a  characteristic  epithet  out  of 
a  petty  oath  by  way  of  designating  a  city  mercer,  the  Poet  gives  us 
at  the  very  same  time  a  pithy  index  of  the  insolent  assumptions 
entertained  by  the  dominant  and  domineering  classes  in  his  time. 

145,  146.  As  I  u'as  then  advised,  etc. : — The  Poet  shows  some 
knowledge  of  the  law  here ;  for,  in  fact,  a  man  employed  as  Fal- 
staff then  was  could  not  be  held  to  answer  in  a  prosecution  for 
an  offence  of  the  kind  in  question. 

241,242.  Will  your  lordship  lend  me  a  thousand  pound  to  fur- 
nish me  forth f — The  point  and  aptness  of  this  question  are  so 
subtle  as  to  be,  perhaps,  not  always  taken.  The  judge  has  just 
been  exhorting  him  to  honesty ;  he  therefore  says.  Will  your  lord- 
ship let  me  have  something  to  be  honest  with?  If  you  will  lend 
me  a  thousand  pounds,  I  will  agree  not  to  steal  for  a  while. 


Scene  III. 

[Enter  the  Archbishop.]  "The  Archbishop."  as  Holinshed  re- 
lates, "  not  meaning  to  stay  after  he  saw  himself  accompanied 
with  a  great  nurnber  of  men,  that  came  flocking  to  York  to  take 
his  part  in  this  quarrel,  forthwith  discovered  his  enterprfse,  caus- 
ing the  articles  aforesaid  to  be  set  up  in  the  public  streets  of  the 
city  of  York,  and  upon  the  gates  of  the  monasteries,  that  each 
man  might  understand  the  cause  that  moved  him  to  rise  in  arms 
against  the  King,  the  reforming  whereof  did  not  yet  appertain 
unto  him.  Hereupon  knights,  esquires,  gentlemen,  yeomen,  and 
other  of  the  commons,  as  well  of  the  city,  towns,  and  countries 

167 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

about,  being  alhirea  eitner  for  desire  of  change,  or  else  for  desire 
to  see  a  reformation  in  such  things  as  were  mentioned  in  the  ar- 
ticles, assembled  together  in  great  numbers ;  and  the  Archbishop 
coming  forth  amongst  them,  clad  in  armour,  encouraged,  ex- 
horted, and  pricked  them  forth  to  take  the  enterprise  in  hand,  and 
manfully  to  continue  in  their  begun  purpose ;  promising  forgive- 
ness of  sins  to  all  them  whose  hap  it  was  to  die  in  the  quarrel; 
and  thus,  not  only  all  the. citizens  of  York,  but  all  other  in  the 
countries  about  that  were  able  to  bear  weapon,  came  to  the  Arch- 
bishop and  the  earl  marshall.  Indeed,  the  respect  that  men  had 
to  the  Archbishop  caused  them  to  like  the  better  of  the  cause, 
since  the  gravity  of  his  age,  his  integrity  of  life,  and  incompa- 
rable learning,  with  the  reverend  aspect  of  his  amiable  personage, 
moved  all  men  to  have  him  in  no  small  estimation." 

82.  The  Duke  of  Lancaster: — This  is  an  anachronism.  Prince 
John  of  Lancaster  was  not  created  a  duke  till  the  second  year  of 
the  reign  of  his  brother.  King  Henry  V.  At  this  time  Prince 
Henry  was  actually  Duke  of  Lancaster.  Shakespeare  was  misled 
by  Stowe,  who,  speaking  of  the  first  Parliament  of  King  Henry 
IV.,  says,  "His  second  sonnc  was  there  made  Duke  of  Lancaster." 

ACT  SECOND. 
Scene  I. 

44.  [Enter  Falstaff.]  Of  this  play's  changes  from  grave  to  gay, 
Ulrici  says :  "  The  comic  parts  illustrate  clearly  and  fully  the 
leading  thought  of  the  whole  play  in  both  its  parts.  In  the  first 
we  are  shown  that  strife  and  war,  in  the  second  that  so-called 
state  actions  (even  though  they  treat  of  outwardly  important  in- 
terests, of  crowns  and  principalities)  are  wholly  unable  to  give 
history  any  real  historical  value ;  further  that  this  value  can  be 
only  of  an  ideal,  ethical  nature,  and  that,  accordingly,  with  the 
rupture  of  the  moral  foundation,  the  organic  equilibrium  of  politi- 
cal life  itself  is  broken;  that  the  course  of  history  (even  though 
outwardly  and  apparently  well-regulated  and  entering  other 
paths)  is  nevertheless  internally  disturbed  and  will  not  admit  of 
the  state  enjoying  rest  and  peace,  till  it  has  again  recovered  its 
necessary  equilibrium." 

88-108.  Coleridge  cites  this  speech  of  the  Hostess  as  an  instance 
of  narrative  "  fermenting  o'er  with  frothy  circumstance,"  and  his 

168 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Notes 

comment  upon  it  is  one  of  those  rare  felicities  of  criticism,  such 
as  we  never  think  of  until  started  by  another,  nor  ever  forget 
them  after ;  they  being  so  natural  and  apt  that  the  mind  no  sooner 
sees  them  than  it  closes  with  them.  "  The  poor  soul's  thoughts 
and  sentences/'  says  he,  "  are  more  closely  interlinked  than  the 
truth  of  nature  would  have  required,  but  that  the  connections  and 
sequence,  which  the  habit,  of  Method  can  alone  give,  have  in  this 
instance  a  substitute  in  the  fusion  of  passion.  For  the  absence  of 
Method,  which  characterizes  the  uneducated,  is  occasioned  by  an 
habitual  submission  of  the  understanding  to  mere  events  and 
images  as  such,  and  independent  of  any  power  in  the  mind  to 
classify  and  appropriate  them.  The  general  accompaniments  of 
time  and  place  are  the  only  relations  which  persons  of  this  class 
appear  to  regard  in  their  statements." 

Scene  II. 

[Prince  Henry.]  Brandes  says:  "Shakespeare  had  certainly 
sufficient  personal  experience  to  enable  him  to  sympathize  with 
this  princely  youth,  who,  despite  the  consciousness  of  his  high  aims, 
revels  in  his  freedom,  shuns  the  court  life  and  ceremonial  which 
await  him,  throws  his  dignity  to  the  winds,  riots  in  reckless  high 
spirits,  boxes  the  ears  of  the  Lord  Chief  Justice,  and  has  yet  self- 
command  enough  to  suffer  arrest  without  resistance,  takes  part 
in  a  tourney  with  a  common  wench's  glove  in  his  helm — in  short, 
does  everj^thing  that  most  conflicts  with  his  people's  sense  of  pro- 
priety and  his  father's  doctrines  of  prudence,  but  does  it  without 
coarseness,  with  a  certain  innocence,  and  without  ever  having 
to  reproach  himself  with  any  actual  self-degradation.  Henry 
IV.  misunderstands  his  son  as  completely  as  Frederick  William 
of  Prussia  misunderstood  the  young  Frederick  the  Great." 

Scene  III. 

[Northumberland.]  "Northumberland,"  says  Hudson,  "makes 
good  his  previous  character :  evermore  talking  big  and  doing  noth- 
ing; full  of  verbal  tempest  and  practical  indecision;  and  still 
ruining  his  friends,  and  at  last  himself,  between  "  I  would  "  and  "  I 
dare  not,"  he  lives  without  our  respect  and  dies  unpitied  of  us ; 
v/hile  his  daughter-in-law's  remembrance  of  her  noble  husband 
kindles  a  sharp  resentment  of  his  mean-spirited  backwardness, 
and  a  hearty  scorn  of  his  blustering  verbiage." 

169 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Scene  IV. 

[Tlie  Boar's-head  Tavern.]  Thornbury  has  aptly  remarked  that 
the  characteristic  of  the  Elizabethan  age  was  its  sociability. 
People  were  always  meeting  at  St.  Paul's,  the  theatre,  or  the 
tavern.  Family  intercourse,  on  the  other  hand,  was  almost  un- 
known; women,  as  in  ancient  Greece,  played  no  prominent  part 
in  society.  The  men  gathered  at  the  tavern  club  to  drink,  talk, 
and  enjoy  themselves.  The  festive  bowl  circulated  freely,  even 
more  so  than  in  Denmark,  which  nevertheless  passed  for  the 
toper's  paradise.  (Compare  the  utterances  on  this  subject  in 
Hamlet,  I.  iv.,  and  Othello,  II.  iii.)  The  taverns  were,  moreover, 
favourite  places  for  the  rendezvous  of  court  gallants  with  citi- 
zens' wives ;  fast  young  men  would  bring  their  mistresses  with 
them,  and  here,  after  supper,  gambling  went  on  merrily.  At 
the  taverns  writers  and  poets  met  in  good  fellowship,  and  carried 
on  wordy  wars,  battles  of  wit,  sparkling  with  mirth  and  fantasy. 
They  were  like  tennis-rallies  of  words,  in  which  the  great  thing 
was  to  tire  out  your  adversary;  they  were  skirmishes  in  which 
the  combatants  poured  into  each  other  whole  volleys  of  conceits. 
Beaumont  has  celebrated  them  in  some  verses  to  Ben  Jonson, 
who,  both  as  a  great  drinker  and  as  an  entertaining  magister 
bibendi,  was  much  admired  and  feted : — 

"  What  things  have  we  seen 
Done  at  the  Mermaid!  heard  words  that  have  been 
So  nimble,  and  so  full  of  subtile  flame, 
As  if  that  every  one  from  whence  they  came 
Had  meant  to  put  his  whole  wit  in  a  jest 
And  had  resolv'd  to  live  a  fool  the  rest 
Of  his  dull  life." 
68-71.  Come,  I  'II  be  friends,  etc. : — It  has  been  aptly  suggested 
that  Mistress  Doll,  as  if  inspired  by  the  present  visitation,  grows 
poetical  here,  and  improvises  in  the  lyric  vein.     The  close  of  her 
speech,  if  set  to  the  eye  as  it  sounds  to  the  ear,  would  stand  some- 
thing thus : — 

"  Come,  I  '11  be  friends  with  thee.  Jack : 
Thou  art  going  to  the  wars ; 
And  whether  I  shall  ever  see  thee  again, 
Or  no,  there  is  nobody  cares." 
89-92.  Master  Tisick     .     .     .     Master  Dumbe: — The  names  of 
Master  Tisick  and  Master  Dumbe  are  ludicrously  intended  to  de- 

170 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Notes 

note  that  the  deputy  was  pursy  and  short-whided  ,  the  minister 
one  of  those  who  preached  only  the  homihes  set  forth  by  author- 
ity Th  Puritans  nicknamed  them  Dumb-dogs,  and  the  oppro- 
brious  epithet   continued  in  use  as   late  as  the   re>gn  of   Kmg 

^^i^Vol'no  cheater -.-rh,  humour  consists  in  Mrs,  Quickly's 
miluking  ^cl  eater  for  an  cscheator  or  officer  of  the  exchequer 
Lord  Coke  puns  upon  the  equivoque:  "  But  tf  you  will  be  conten 
io  let  the  eseheator  alone,  and  not  look  mto  h.s  actions,  he  w  11 
be  contented  by  deceiving  you  to  change  his  name  takmg  unto 
htmselt  "he  two  last  syllables  only,  with  the  es  left  out.  and  so 

'",63  ""''''-V  to  the  la-. -.-By  several  statutes  made  in  the 
.eii>?s  of  Elizabeth  and  James  I.  for  the  -g"'^'- ^f  ^^f^''^^^^^ 
of  fish  davs,  victuallers  were  expressly  forbidden  o  furn.sh  flesh 
^n  lent  The  brothels  were  formerly  screened  under  the  preten  e 
of  being  victualling  houses  and  taverns,  just  as  too  often  we  see 

them  in  cities  to-day.  ,       ,    ,  .     « Tho=A  valedirtorv 

404  an  honester  and  truer-hearted  man:-  These  valedictory 
word  "says  Clarke,  "  (printed  in  the  Folio  with  a  dash,  to  indi- 
cate a  broken  speech,  as  if  unfinished  from  incapacity  to  express 
S  she  feels  of  admiration)  uttered  by  Hostess  Qmckly  after 
neart  thirty  years'  experience  of  Sir  John's  honesty  and  truth, 
serve  blue  than  pages  of  commentary  upon  his  powers  of  fasci- 
naton  o  show  hotv  strong  is  the  spell  he  exercises  upon  the 
fud°ement  and  affections  of  those  with  whom  he  associates.  The 
Hostess's  blind  idolatry,  Bardolph's  toughly  worshipping  attach- 
m«"?as  seen  in  Henry  V.)  form  the  handsomest  excuse  for  the 
bewitchment  with  which  the  Prince  seeks  his  society. 

ACT  THIRD. 
Scene  I. 

let-er;  depths  of  his  own  experience,  and  addressed  to  men  of 
the  ike  expe  nee  and  thought.  Every  word  of  this  Scene  is  m 
the  liighest'degree  significant  and  admirable.    It  is  here  that  the 

171 


Noles  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

King  turns  to  what  we  now  call  geology  for  an  image  of  the  his- 
torical mutability  of  all  things.  When  he  mournfully  reminds  his 
attendants  that  Richard  II.,  whom  he  displaced,  prophesied  a 
nemesis  to  come  from  those  who  had  helped  him  to  the  throne, 
and  that  this  nemesis  has  now  overtaken  him,  Warwick  answers 
with  the  profound  and  astonishingly  modern  reflection  embodied 
in  these  lines. 

92-93.  To  the  words  of  Warwick  just  cited,  the  King  returns 
this  no  less  philosophical  answer. 

103.  Glcndozvcr  is  dead : — Glendower  did  not  die  till  after  the 
death  of  King  Henry  IV.  Shakespeare  was  led  into  this  error  by 
Holinshed. 

Scene  IL 

50,  SI.  clapped  i'  the  clout,  etc.: — By  the  provisions  of  an  old 
statute,  every  person  turned  of  seventeen  years  of  age,  who  shoots 
at  a  less  distance  than  twelve  score  yards,  is  to  forfeit  six  shillings 
and  eight  pence. 

71.  accommodated: — It  appears  that  it  was  fashionable  in  the 
Poet's  time  to  introduce  the  word  accommodate  upon  all  occa- 
sions. Ben  Jonson,  in  his  Discoveries,  calls  it  one  of  the  perfumed 
terms  of  the  time.  The  indefinite  use  of  it  is  well  ridiculed  by 
Bardolph's  vain  attempt,  a  few  lines  below,  to  define  it. 

89.  {Enter  Falstaff.]  Brandes  thinks  this  play  in  its  serious 
scenes  more  faithful  to  history  than  the  first  part.  "  In  the  comic 
scenes,  which  are  very  amply  developed,"  he  declares  that 
"  Shakespeare  has  achieved  the  feat  of  bringing  Falstafif  a  second 
time  upon  the  stage  without  giving  us  the  least  sense  of  anti- 
climax. He  is  incomparable  as  ever  in  his  scenes  with  the  Lord 
Chief  Justice  and  with  the  women  of  the  tavern;  and  when  he 
goes  down  into  Gloucestershire  in  his  character  of  recruiting- 
officer,  he  is  still  at  the  height,  of  his  genius.  As  new  comrades 
and  foils  to  him,  Shakespeare  has  here  created  the  two  con- 
temptible country  justices,  Shallow  and  Silence.  Shallow  is  a 
masterpiece,  a  compact  of  mere  stupidity,  foolishness,  boastful- 
ness,  rascality,  and  senility ;  yet  he  appears  a  genius  in  compari- 
son with  the  inefi^able  Silence.  Here,  as  in  the  first  part,  the  Poet 
evidently  drew  his  comic  types  from  the  life  of  his  own  day." 

^S7-  Vice's  dagger : — There  is  something  excessively  ludicrous 
in  the  comparison  of  Shallow  to  this  powerless  weapon  of  that 
droll  personage,  the  old  Vice  or  fool. 

172 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Notes 

ACT  FOURTH. 

Scene  I. 

170  et.  scq.  Holinshed's  account  runs :  "  The  messengers  re- 
turning to  the  Earl  of  Westmoreland,  showed  him  what  they  had 
heard  and  brought  from  the  Archbishop.  When  he  had  read  the 
articles,  he  showed  in  word  and  countenance  outwardly  that  he 
liked  the  Archbishop's  holy  and  virtuous  intent  and  purpose, 
promising  that  he  and  his  would  prosecute  the  same  in  assisting 
the  Archbishop,  who  rejoicing  hereat  gave  credit  to  the  earl,  and 
persuaded  the  earl  marshall  (against  his  will  as  it  were)  to  go 
with  him  to  a  place  appointed  for  them  to  commune  together. 
Here  when  they  were  met  with  like  number  on  either  part,  the 
articles  were  read  over,  and  without  any  more  ado  the  Earl  of 
Westmoreland  and  those  that  were  with  him,  agreed  to  do  their 
best  to  see  that  a  reformation  might  be  had,  according  to  the 
same.  The  Earl  of  Westmoreland  using  more  policy  than  the 
rest:  Well  (said  he)  then  our  travail  is  come  to  the  wished  end: 
and  where  our  people  have  been  long  in  armour,  let  them  depart 
home  to  their  wonted  trades  and  occupations :  in  the  meantime 
let  us  drink  together  in  sign  of  agreement,  that  the  people  on  both 
sides  may  see  it,  and  know  that  it  is  true,  that  we  be  light  at  point. 
They  had  no  sooner  shaken  hands  together,  but  that  a  knight  was 
sent  straightways  from  the  Archbishop,  to  bring  word  to  the  peo- 
ple that  there  was  peace  concluded,  commanding  each  man  to  lay 
aside  his  arms,  and  to  resort  home  to  their  houses." 

176.  our  awful  banks: — Of  course  the  image  of  a  river  is  sug- 
gested ;  human  life  being  compared  to  a  stream  that  ought  to  flow 
in  reverential  obedience  to  the  order  and  institutions  of  the  state. 
Keeping  itself  within  the  proper  bounds,  it  moves  in  reverence 
and  awe ;    in  overflowing  them  it  renounces  this. 

193.  our  royal  faiths: — So  in  Henry  VIII.,  IV.  i.  7,  8:  "The 
citizens  .  .  .  have  shown  at  full  their  royal  minds,"  that  is, 
their  minds  well  affected  to  the  king. 

Scene  II. 

8.  an  iron  man  : — Holinshed  says  of  the  Archbishop,  that,  "  com- 
ing foorth  amongst  them  clad  in  armour,  he  encouraged  and 
pricked  them  foorth  to  the  enterprise  in  hand." 

62   et  seq.  Holinshed  narrates :    "  The   people   beholding   such 

173 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

tokens  of  peace,  as  shaking  of  hands  and  drinking  together  of  the 
lords  in  loving  manner,  they  being  already  wearied  with  the  un- 
accustomed travail  of  war,  brake  up  their  field  and  returned  home- 
wards :  but  in  the  meantime,  whilst  the  people  of  the  Archbishop's 
side  withdrew  away,  the  number  of  the  contrary  part  increased, 
according  to  order  given  by  the  Earl  of  Westmoreland :  and  yet 
the  Archbishop  perceived  not  that  he  was  deceived,  until  the  Earl 
of  Westmoreland  arrested  both  him  and  the  earl  marshall  with 
diverse  other.  Thus  saith  Walsingham.  But  others  write  some- 
what otherwise  of  this  matter,  affirming  that  the  Earl  of  West- 
moreland indeed,  and  the  Lord  Rafe  Evers,  procured  the  Arch- 
bishop and  the  earl  marshall  to  come  to  a  communication  with 
them,  upon  a  ground  just  in  the  midway  betwixt  both  the  armies, 
where  the  Earl  of  Westmoreland  in  talk  declared  to  them  how 
perilous  an  enterprise  they  had  taken  in  hand,  so  as  to  raise  the 
people,  and  to  move  war  against  the  King;  advising  them  there- 
fore to  submit  themselves  without  further  delay  unto  the  King's 
mercy,  and  his  son  the  Lord  John,  who  was  present  there  in  the 
field  with  banners  spread,  ready  to  try  the  matter  by  dint  of  sword, 
if  they  refused  this  counsel ;  and  therefore  he  willed  them  to  re- 
member themselves  well :  and  if  they  would  not  yield  and  crave 
the  King's  pardon,  he  bade  them  to  do  their  best  to  defend  them- 
selves." 

112-123.  I  paivn'd  thee  none,  etc.: — Johnson  and  other  critics 
have  been  very  indignant  that  the  Poet  did  not  put  into  the  mouth 
of  some  character  a  strain  of  hot  indignation  against  this  instance 
of  treachery.  In  answer  to  which  Verplanck  very  aptly  quotes  a 
remark  said  to  have  been  made  by  Chief  Justice  Marshall.  The 
counsel,  it  seems,  had  been  boring  the  court  a  long  time  with  try- 
ing to  prove  points  that  nobody  doubted;  and  the  judge,  after 
bearing  it  as  long  as  he  well  could,  very  quietly  informed  him  that 
"  there  were  some  things  which  the  court  might  safely  be  pre- 
sumed to  know."  Perhaps  the  critics  in  question  did  not  duly 
consider,  that  the  surest  way  in  such  cases  to  keep  down  right 
feeling,  is  to  take  for  granted  that  men  do  not  know  how  to  feel, 
and  so  go  about  to  school  them  up  to  it.  Verplanck  rightly  ob- 
serves, that  when  Mowbray,  two  lines  above,  asks,  "  Is  this  pro- 
ceeding just  and  honourable?"  the  Poet  "took  for  granted  that 
his  audience  would  find  an  unhesitating  and  unanimous  negative 
and  indignant  reply  in  their  own  hearts,  without  hearing  a  ser- 
mon upon  it  from  the  deceived  Archbishop,  or  a  lecture  from 
some  bystander." 

174 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Notes 

Scene  III. 

37,38.  nine  score  and  odd  posts: — "  Falstaff's  fine  exaggera- 
tions," as  Clarke  notes,  "  have  so  rich  an  excess  that  they  proclaim 
their  own  immunity  from  censure  as  lies.  They  at  once  avow  inno- 
cence of  intention  to  deceive ;  they  are  uttered  for  the  pure  pleas- 
ure of  wit-invention.  It  is  not  that  he  for  a  moment  expects 
Prince  John  to  believe  in  his  having  foundered  more  than  a  hun- 
dred and  eighty  horses,  but  he  has  a  relish  in  defending  himself 
with  such  exuberance  of  resource  that  his  hearer  shall  be  com- 
pelled to  give  way.  He  is  not  in  the  right ;  but  it  is  his  will  that 
those  who  listen  to  him  shall  allow  him  to  leave  off  as  if  he  were 
in  the  right,  even  while  he  is  in  the  wrong,  for  the  pure  sake  of  his 
wit.  He  never  proves  his  case ;  but  he  so  ably  defends  his  cause 
that  he  invariably  gains  the  day.  No  one  can  condemn,  though  no 
one  acquits  him;  he  is  left  unjudged,  and  suffered  still  to  go  at 
large,  and  in  triumph — the  victor  ever." 

90,91.  a  viau  cannot  make  him  laugh: — Falstaff's  pride  of  wit 
— a  pride  which  is  most  especially  gratified  in  the  fascination  he 
has  upon  Prince  Henry — is  shrewdly  manifested  here,  while  at 
the  same  time  a  very  important  and  operative  principle  of  human 
character  in  general,  and  of  Prince  John's  character  in  particular, 
is  most  hintingly  touched.  Falstaff  sees  that  the  brain  of  this 
"  sober-blooded  boy  "  has  nothing  for  him  to  get  hold  of  or  work 
upon ;  that  be  he  never  so  witty  in  himself  he  cannot  be  the  cause 
of  any  wit  in  him ;  and  he  is  vexed  and  mortified  that  his  wit 
fails  upon  him.  And  the  Poet  meant  no  doubt  to  have  it  under- 
stood that  Prince  Henry  was  drawn  and  held  to  Falstaff  by  virtue 
of  something  that  raised  him  immeasurably  above  his  brother; 
and  that  the  frozen  regularity,  which  was  proof  against  all  the  bat- 
teries of  wit  and  humour,  was  all  of  a  piece,  vitally,  with  the 
moral  hardness  which  would  not  flinch  from  such  an  abominable 
act  of  perfidy  as  that  towards  the  Archbishop  and  his  party.  Well, 
therefore,  does  Johnson  remark  upon  the  passage  :  "  He  who  can- 
not be  softened  into  gaiety,  cannot  easily  be  melted  into  kindness." 

106.  becomes  excellent  wit: — Concerning  this  first  "property  of 
your  excellent  sherris,"  some  curious  matter  has  been  quoted  by 
Hughson  in  his  History  of  London,  from  an  unpublished  Diary  of 
Ben  Jonson  preserved  at  Dulwich  College.  One  memorandum 
runs  thus :  "  I  laid  the  plot  of  my  Volpone,  and  wrote  most  of  it, 
after  a  present  of  ten  doz.  of  Palm  sack,  from  my  very  good  Lord 
T ;    that  play,  I  am  positive,  will  last  to  posterity,  when  I 

175 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

and  Envy  are  friends  with  Applause."  Again,  speaking  of  his 
Catiline,  he  thinks  one  of  its  scenes  is  flat,  and  therefore  resolves 
to  drink  no  more  water  with  his  wine.  And  he  describes  The  Al- 
cJiemist  and  TJie  Silent  Woman  as  the  product  of  much  and  good 
wine,  adding,  withal,  that  The  Devil  is  an  Ass  "  was  written  when 
I  and  my  boys  drank  bad  wine."  Doubtless  Shakespeare  and  rare 
old  Ben  had  discussed  the  virtues  of  sack  in  more  senses  than 
one  in  some  of  their  wit-combats  at  the  Mermaid ;  though  which 
of  them  was  the  master,  and  which  the  pupil,  in  this  deep  science, 
cannot  now  be  ascertained.  Both  their  establishments,  no  doubt, 
were  pretty  good  at  convertin-g  wine  into  wit ;  but  surely  Shake- 
speare's must  have  been  far  the  best,  since  all  the  benefit  of  Fal- 
staff's  full-grown  and  ripe  experience  had  accrued  to  him. 

Scene   IV. 

[The  Jerusalem  chamber.]  Holinshed  says:  "  We  find  that  he 
[King  Henry]  was  taken  with  his  last  sickness  while  he  was  mak- 
ing his  prayers  at  Saint  Edward's  shrine,  there  as  it  were  to  take 
his  leave  and  so  to  proceed  forth  on  his  journey.  He  was  so  sud- 
denly and  grievously  taken,  that  such  as  were  about  him  feared 
lest  he  would  have  died  presently.  Wherefore,  to  relieve  him  (if 
it  were  possible),  they  bare  him  unto  a  chamber  that  was  next  at 
hand  belonging  to  the  Abbot  of  Westminster,  where  they  laid  him 
on  a  pallet  before  the  fire,  and  used  all  remedies  to  revive  him. 
At  length  he  recovered  his  speech  and  understanding,  and  per- 
ceiving himself  in  a  strange  place  which  he  knew  not,  he  willed 
to  know  if  the  chamber  had  any  particular  name ;  whereunto 
answer  was  made  that  it  was  Jerusalem.  Then,  said  the  King, 
lauds  be  given  to  the  Father  of  heaven ;  for  now  I  know  that  I 
shall  die  here  in  this  chamber,  according  to  the  prophecy  of  me 
declared,  that  I  should  depart  this  life  in  Jerusalem." 

7Q.  (So.  'Tis  seldom  zvhcn  the  bee,  etc.: — As  the  bee,  having  once 
placed  her  comb  in  a  carcass,  stays  by  her  honey,  so  he  that  has 
once  taken  pleasure  in  bad  company  will  continue  to  associate 
with  those  that  have  the  art  of  pleasing  him. 

122.  Unfather'd  heirs: — To  Staunton,  these  were  certain  so- 
called  prophets,  who  pretended  to  have  been  conceived  by  miracle, 
like  Merlin.     So  Spenser,  in  The  Faerie  Queene: — 

"  And.  sooth,  men  say  that  he  was  not  the  sonne 
Of  mortall  Syre  or  other  living  wight, 
But  wondrously  begotten,  and  begonne* 

1/6 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Notes 

By  false  illusion  of  a  guilefull  Spright 

On  a  faire  Lady  Nonne,  that  whilome  hight 

Matilda,  daughter  to  Pubidius, 

Who  was  the  lord  of  Mathraval  by  right, 

And  coosen  unto  King  Ambrosius ; 

Whence  he  indued  was  with  skill  so  merveilous." 

Also  Montaigne,  Essays :  "  In  Mahomet's  religion,  by  the 
easie  beleefe  of  that  people,  are  many  Merlins  found;  that  is  to 
say,  fatherles  children ;  spiritual  children,  conceived  and  borne 
devinely  in  the  wombs  of  virgins,"  etc. 

Scene  V. 

2,  3.  Unless  some  dull,  etc. : — It  has  always  been  thought  that 
slazi;  or  in  the  old  sense,  dull  music  induces  sleep.  Ariel  enters 
playing  solemn  music  to  produce  this  effect,  in  The  Tempest.  The 
notion  is  not  peculiar  to  our  Poet,  as  the  following  exquisite  lines, 
from  Wit  Restored,  1658,  may  witness  : —  * 

"  O,  lull  me,  lull  me,  charming  air, 

My  senses  rock'i  with  wonder  sweet; 
Like  snow  on  wool  thy  fallings  are. 
Soft  like  a  spirit  are  thy  feet. 
Grief  who  need  fear 
That  hath  an  ear? 
Down  let  him  lie, 
And  slumbering  die, 
And  change  his  soul  for  harmony." 
[Enter  Prince  Henry.]     Holinshed  thus  narrates  the  circum- 
stances of  the  Prince's  interview  with  the  King :     "  The  prince,  sore 
offended  with  such  persons  as  by  slanderous  reports  sought,  not 
only  to  spot  his  good  name  abroad  in  the  realm,  but  to  sow  dis- 
cord also  betwixt  him  and  his  father,  wrote  his  letters  into  every 
part  of  the  realm,  to  reprove  all  such  slanderous  devices  of  those 
that  sought  his  discredit.    And  to  clear  himself  the  better,  that  the 
world  might  understand  what  wrong  he  had  to  be  slandered  in 
such  wise,  about  the  feast  of  Peter  and  Paul,  to  wit,  the  nine-and- 
twentieth  day  of  June,  he  came  to  the  court,  with  such  a  number 
of  noblemen  and  other  his  friends  that  wished  him  well,  as  the 
like  train  had  been  seldom  seen  repairing  to  the  court  at  any  one 
time  in  those  days.    The  court  was  then  at  Westminster,  where  he 
being  entered  into  the  hall,  not  one  of  his  company  durst  once 

177 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

advance  himself  further  than  the  fire  in  the  same  hall,  notwith- 
standing they  were  earnestly  requested  by  the  lords  to  come 
higher ;  but  they,  regarding  what  they  had  in  commandment  of 
the  Prince,  would  not  presume  to  do  in  any  thing  contrary  there- 
unto. He  himself,  only  accompanied  with  those  of  the  King's 
house,  was  straight  admitted  to  the  presence  of  the  King  his 
father,  who  being  at  that  time  grievously  diseased,  yet  caused  him- 
self in  his  chair  to  be  borne  into  his  privy  chamber,  where,  in  the 
presence  of  three  or  four  persons  in  whom  he  had  most  confidence, 
he  commanded  the  Prmce  to  show  what  he  had  to  say  concerning 
the  cause  of  his  coming.  The  Prince  kneeling  down  before  his 
father,  said :  Most  redoubted  and  sovereign  lord  and  father,  I  am 
at  this  time  come  to  your  presence  as  your  liege  man,  and  as  your 
natural  son,  in  all  things  to  be  at  your  commandment.  And  where 
I  understand  you  have  in  suspicion  my  demeanour  against  your 
Grace,  you  know  very  well,  that  if  I  knew  any  man  within  this 
realm  of  whom  you  should  stand  in  fear,  my  duty  were  to  punish 
that^erson,  thereby  to  remove  that  grief  from  your  heart.  Then 
how  much  more  ought  I  to  suffer  death,  to  ease  your  Grace  of 
that  grief  which  you  have  of  me,  being  your  natural  son  and  liege 
man;  and  to  that  end  I  have  this  day  made  myself  ready  by  con- 
fession and  receiving  the  sacrament.  And  therefore  I  beseech 
you,  most  redoubted  lord  and  dear  father,  for  the  honour  of  God, 
to  ease  your  heart  of  all  such  suspicion  as  you  have  of  me,  and  to 
despatch  me  here  before  your  knees  with  this  same  dagger  (and 
withal  he  delivered  unto  the  King  his  dagger  in  all  humble  rever- 
ence, adding  further,  that  his  life  was  not  so  dear  to  him  that  he 
wished  to  live  one  day  with  his  displeasure)  ;  and  therefore,  in 
thus  ridding  me  out  of  life,  and  yourself  from  all  suspicion,  here 
in  presence  of  these  lords,  and  before  God  at  the  day  of  the  gen- 
eral judgement,  I  faithfully  protest  clearly  to  forgive  you.  The 
King,  moved  herewith,  cast  from  him  the  dagger,  and,  embracing 
the  Prince,  kissed  him,  and  with  shedding  tears  confessed,  that 
indeed  he  had  him  partly  m  'suspicion,  though  now  (as  he  per- 
ceived) not  with  just  cause;  and  therefore  from  thenceforth  no 
misreport  should  cause  him  to  have  him  in  mistrust;  and  this  he 
promised  of  his  honour.  Thus  were  the  father  and  the  son  recon- 
ciled, betwixt  whom  the  said  pickthanks  had  sown  division." 

163.  medicine  potable : — It  was  long  a  prevailing  opinion  that  a 
solution  of  gold  had  great  medicinal  virtues ;  and  that  the  incor- 
ruptibility of  the  metal  might  be  communicated  to  the  body  im- 
pregnated with  it.    Potable  gold  was  a  panacea  of  ancient  quacks. 

178 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Notes 

ACT  FIFTH. 

Scene  I. 

[Enter  .  .  .  Falstaff.]  "  If,"  says  Hudson,  "  we  were  to  fix 
upon  anything  as  especially  characteristic  of  Falstaff,  we  should 
say  it  is  an  amazing  fund  of  good  sense.  His  vast  stock  of  this,  to 
be  sure,  is  pretty  much  all  enlisted  or  impressed  into  the  service 
of  sensuality,  yet  nowise  so  but  that  the  servant  still  overpeers  and 
outshines  the  master.  Moreover,  his  thinking  has  such  agility 
and  quickness,  and  at  the  same  time  is  so  apt  and  pertinent,  as  to 
do  the  work  of  the  most  prompt  and  popping  wit,  yet  in  such  sort 
as  we  cannot  but  feel  the  presence  of  something  much  larger 
and  stronger  than  wit.  For  mere  wit,  be  it  never  so  good,  to  be 
keenly  relished  must  be  sparingly  used,  and  the  more  it  tickles  the 
sooner  it  tires.  But  no  one  can  ever  weary  of  Falstaff's  talk,  who 
understands  it;  his  speech  being  like  pure,  fresh  cold  water, 
which  always  tastes  good,  because  it  is — tasteless.  The  wit  of 
other  men  seems  to  be  some  special  faculty  or  mode  of  thought, 
and  lies  in  a  quick  seizing  of  remote  and  fanciful  affinities ; 
whereas  in  Falstaff  it  lies  not  in  any  one  thing  more  than  another, 
for  which  cause  it  cannot  be  defined,  being  indeed  none  other 
than  that  roundness  and  evenness  of  mind  which  we  call  good 
sense,  so  quickened  and  pointed  as  to  produce  the  effect  of  wit, 
yet  without  hindrance  to  its  own  proper  effect.'' 

45-55-  I  grant  your  worship,  etc. : — This  is  no  exaggerated  pic- 
ture of  the  course  of  justice  in  Shakespeare's  time.  Sir  Nicholas 
Bacon,  in  a  speech  in  Parliament,  1559,  says,  "Is  it  not  a  mon- 
strous disguising  to  have  a  justice  a  maintainer,  acquitting  som? 
for  gain,  enditing  others  for  malice,  bearing  with  him  as  his 
servant,  overthrowing  the  other  as  his  enemy?  "  A  member  of 
the  House  of  Commons,  in  1601,  says,  "A  justice  of  peace  is  a 
living  creature,  that  for  half  a  dozen  chickens  will  dispense  with 
a  dozen  of  penal  statutes," 

66-68.  //  /  zvere  sawed,  etc. : — Clarke  comments  here :  "  The 
relish  with  which  Falstaff  each  time  stays  by  himself  to  witticize 
upon  Shallow's  peculiarities,  the  gusto  with  which  he  makes  the 
justice's  leanness  furnish  him  with  as  ample  store  of  humour  as 
his  own  fatness,  the  shrewdness  with  which  he  penetrates  the 
truth  of  the  relative  qualities  and  positions  of  the  country  magis- 
trate and  his  serving-man,  all  show  how  thoroughly  the  author 

179 


Noies  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

liimself  enjoyed  the  composition  of  this  thrice  admirable  comedy- 
portrait  character." 

76-80.  //  /  had  a  suit,  etc. : — This  is  a  most  shrewd  and  search- 
ing commentary  on  what  has  just  passed  between  Shallow  and 
Davy  in  Falstaff's  presence.  It  is  impossible  to  hit  them  more 
aptly,  to  take  them  off  more  felicitously.  Of  course  Sir  John 
could  not  be  the  greatest  of  makesports,  as  he  is,  unless  he  were, 
or  at  least  were  capable  of  being,  something  more.  And  in  fact 
he  has  as  much  practical  sagacity  and  penetration  as  the  King ; 
there  being  no  other  person  in  the  play,  except  Prince  Henry,  that 
dives  so  quickly  and  deeply  into  the  characters  of  those  about  him. 

86.  which  is  four  tcrtns : — These  terms  were  the  terms  or  sit- 
tings of  the  courts,  by  which  the  seasons  were  then  commonly 
reckoned.  During  the  law  terms,  many  people  went  up  from  the 
country  into  the  city,  to  transact  business,  learn  the  fashions,  and 
do  sundry  other  things.  Some  one  has  justly  remarked  upon  the 
humour  of  making  a  spendthrift  thus  compute  time  by  those 
periods  which  a  hard-up  debtor  would  be  apt  to  remember. 

88.  et  seq.  Lloyd  says:  "In  the  second  part  of  Henry  IV. 
Falstaff  lets  out  the  principle  and  secret  of  his  sycophancy.  '  O 
it  is  much,'  he  says,  '  that  a  lie  with  a  slight  oath  and  a  jest  with  a 
sad  brow  will  do  with  a  fellow  that  never  had  the  ache  in  his 
shoulders.'  The  rogue  infallibly  divines  the  Prince's  rejoinder  to 
every  remark  he  makes,  grossly  as  he  mistakes  as  to  the  main 
point  of  the  ultimate  hold  he  supposes  himself  to  possess  on  his 
habits  or  sympathies.  To  supply  the  Prince  with  mirth  is  his  busi- 
ness and  his  enjoyment,  and  he  gains  his  ludicrous  Doints  by  ex- 
aggerating his  personal  unwieldiness  and  vices  of  mind  and  habit, 
ever  with  full  reliance  that  the  Prince  will  fall  into  the  trap  and 
never  discern  the  trick.  When  wit  and  mirth  and  nimbleness  of 
imaginative  suggestions  are  in  question,  Falstaff  is  as  superior  to 
the  Prince  as  the  master  to  his  instrument,  and  it  is  the  very  use 
of  this  superiority  that  misleads  him  into  the  belief  that  he  has 
equal  sway  over  his  earnest  purposes.  The  Prince  is  even  inferior 
to  Poins  in  the  imaginative  design  and  conduct  of  a  jest." 

Scene  II. 

73-83.  /  then  did  use  .  .  .  commit  you : — While  Sir  Will- 
iam Gascoigne  was  at  the  bar,  Henry  of  Bolingbroke  was  his 
client,  and  appointed  him  his  attorney  to  sue  out  his  livery  in  the 
Court  of  Wards ;    but  Richard  II.  defeated  his  purpose.     When 

180 


J 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Notes 

Bolingbroke  became  Henry  IV.  he  appointed  Gascoigne  Chief 
Justice.  In  that  station  he  acquired  the  character  of  a  learned, 
upright,  wise  and  intrepid  judge.  In  treating  the  commitment  of 
the  Prince,  Shakespeare  follows  the  Chronicles. 

113,  114.  Forzchicli,  I  do  commit,  etc. : — "  The  reader,"  says  Ver- 
planck,  "  must  bear  in  mind  that  the  present  tenure  of  office  for 
life  by  the  English  judges  is  but  modern;  and  that,  under  the 
Plantagenets  and  Tudors,  a  Chief  Justice  might  be  removed  like 
any  other  officer  of  the  crown.  Henry's  voluntary  retaining  the 
Chief  Justice  in  his  high  station  is,  therefore,  a  manly  acknowl- 
edgement of  his  own  error,  and  a  magnanimous  tribute  to  the  up- 
rightness of  the  magistrate.  The  story  of  the  Prince's  insolence, 
and  his  commitment  to  prison,  is  strictly  historical,  being  related 
briefly  by  Hall  and  Holinshed,  and  more  minutely  by  Sir  Thomas 
Elyot,  in  his  book  of  political  ethics  entitled  The  Goveniour.  But 
these  are  all  silent  as  to  Henry  V.'s  after-treatment  of  the  Chief 
Justice,  or  the  latter's  being  continued  in  office  after  the  accession 
of  Henry  V.  Several  of  the  Shakespearian  historical  critics  .  .  . 
deny  the  fact  itself,  and  some  of  them  in  a  tone  of  rebuke  for 
the  *  author's  deviation  from  history.'  I  should  be  sorry  to  lose  a 
noble  example  of  moderation  and  magnanimit}^  in  the  exercise  of 
political  patronage,  from  history;  but  if  those  comments  are  cor- 
rect, Shakespeare  deserves  the  higher  honour  of  not  having 
merely  adopted  and  beautifully  enforced,  but  having  invented  the 
striking  incident,  embodying  a  noble  lesson  of  political  ethics, 
which  in  our  own  days  even  republican  rulers  may  profit  by.  I  in- 
cline to  the  opinion  that  the  English  commentators  are  in  error 
as  to  the  fact,  and  that  the  Poet  has  merely  decorated  and  en- 
forced the  truth,  which  probably  came  down  to  him  by  popular 
and  general  tradition,  as  a  plain  fact,  to  which  he  has  given  the 
impressive  weight  of  moral  instruction."  Verplanck  follows  these 
remarks  with  an  argument  in  support  of  the  substantial  historical 
accuracy  of  the  Poet  in  his  treatment  of  the  matter.  And  it  is 
now  considered  to  have  been  fully  established  that  Shakespeare 
herein  has  based  his  "  lesson  of  political  ethics  "  on  history  no 
less  than  upon  his  own  ideals  of  magnanimity. 

Scene  III. 

3.  caraways : — Caraway  seeds  were  formerly  much  eaten  with 
apples,  for  reasons  which  appear  from  the  following  quotations : 
In   Cogan's  Haven  of  Health,    1594,   it   is   stated  that  '"  careway 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

seeds  are  used  to  be  made  in  comfits,  and  to  be  eaten  with  apples, 
and  surely  very  good  for  that  purpose,  for  all  such  things  as  breed 
wind  would  be  eaten  with  other  things  that  breake  wind."  Again : 
"  Howbeit  we  are  wont  to  eate  carrawaies,  or  biskets,  or  some 
other  kind  of  comfits  or  seedes,  together  with  apples,  thereby  to 
breake  winde  ingendred  by  them;  and  surely  this  is  a  verie  good 
way  for  students." 

Scene  IV. 

[Hostess  Quickly  and  Doll  Tcarsheet.]  "  In  his  first  years  in 
London,"  says  Brandes,  "  Shakespeare,  as  an  underling  in  a  com- 
pany of  players,  can  have  had  no  opportunity  of  associating  with 
other  women  than,  firstly,  those  who  sat  for  his  Mistress  Quickly 
and  Doll  Tearsheet ;  secondly,  those  passionate  and  daring  women 
who  make  the  first  advances  to  actors  and  poets ;  and,  thirdly, 
those  who  served  as  models  for  his  Merry  Wives,  with  their 
sound  bourgeois  sense  and  not  over  delicate  gaiety.  But  the  ordi- 
nary citizen's  wife  or  daughter  of  that  day  offered  the  Poet  no 
sort  of  spiritual  sustenance.  They  were,  as  a  rule,  quite  illiterate. 
Shakespeare's  younger  daughter  could  not  even  write  her  own 
name." 

Scene  V, 

56.  Reply  not,  etc.: — "We  see  by  this,"  shrewdly  observes 
Clarke,  "  that  there  was  a  light  in  Falstaff's  eye,  a  play  of  his  lip 
that  betokened  some  repartee  as  to  wherefore  the  grave  should 
naturally  gape  wider  for  him  than  for  other  and  slenderer  men; 
and  the  King,  knowing  of  old  that  once  let  Falstaff  retort  and  he 
is  silenced,  forestalls  the  intended  reply  by  forbidding  and  con- 
demning it  beforehand." 

"  Nature,"  declares  Warburton,  "  is  highly  touched  in  this  pas- 
sage. The  King,  having  shaken  off  his  vanities,  schools  his  old 
companion  for  his  follies  with  great  severity :  he  assumes  the  air 
of  a  preacher,  bids  him  fall  to  his  prayers,  seek  grace,  and  leave 
gormandizing.  But  that  word  unluckily  presenting  him  with  a 
pleasant  idea,  he  cannot  forbear  pursuing  it — '  Know,  the  grave 
doth  gape  for  thee  thrice  wider,'  etc. — and  is  just  falling  back  into 
Hal,  by  a  humorous  allusion  to  Falstaff's  bulk.  But  he  perceives 
it  immediately,  and  fearing  Sir  John  should  take  the  advantage 
of  it,  checks  both  himself  and  the  knight  with 

'  Reply  not  to  me  with  a  fool-born  jest '; 

182 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Notes 

and  so  resumes  the  thread  of  his  discourse,  and  goes  morahzing 
on  to  the  end  of  the  chapter.  Thus  the  Poet  copies  nature  with 
great  skill,  and  shows  us  how  apt  men  are  to  fall  back  into  their 
old  customs,  when  the  change  is  not  made  by  degrees  and  brought 
into  a  habit,  but  determined  of  at  once,  on  the  motives  of  honour, 
interest,  or  reason." 

The  great  change  which  transformed  the  Hal  of  yesterday  into 
the  King  of  to-day  is  thus  set  forth  by  Holinshed :  "  Henry, 
Prince  of  Wales,  son  and  heir  to  King  Henry  the  Fourth,  born  in 
Wales,  at  Monmouth  on  the  river  of  Wye,  after  his  father  was 
departed  took  upon  him  the  regiment  of  this  realm  of  England, 
the  twentieth  of  March,  1413,  the  morrow  after  proclaimed  king 
by  the  name  of  Henry  the  Fifth,  This  king  even  at  first  appoint- 
ing with  himself  to  show  that  in  his  person  princely  honours 
should  change  public  manners,  he  determined  to  put  on  him  the 
shape  of  a  new  man.  For  whereas  aforetime  he  had  made  himself 
a  companion  unto  misruly  mates  of  dissolute  order  and  life,  he 
now  banished  them  all  from  his  presence  (but  not  unrewarded, 
or  else  unpreferred),  inhibiting  them,  upon  a  great  pain,  not  once 
to  approach,  lodge,  or  sojourn  within  ten  miles  of  his  court  or 
presence ;  and  in  their  places  he  chose  men  of  gravity,  wit,  and 
high  policy,  by  whose  wise  counsel  he  might  at  all  times  rule  to 
his  honour  and  dignity." 


1B3 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Questions  on  2  Henry  IV. 


INDUCTION. 

1.  From  what  work  of  literature  is  this  personification  o! 
Rumour  ultimately  derived? 

2.  Does  Rumour  in  the  following  play  ever  influence  the  course 
of  the  action  ? 

3.  What  does  Rumour  report  of  Harry  Monmouth ;  of  the 
King;   of  Northumberland? 

4.  What  influence  had  Rumour  in  establishing  the  grounds  for 
the  action  of  this  play  ? 

ACT  FIRST. 

5.  What  kind  of  sickness  has  Rumour  attributed  to  Northum- 
berland? In  what  way  does  the  news  from  the  field  of  Shrews- 
bury reach  him?  How  does  he  reveal  his  true  character  when  the 
authentic  reports  arrive? 

6.  What  words  of  Harry  Percy  in  the  First  Part  do  the  words 
of  Morton  (i.  170,  171)  recall? 

7.  How  does  the  insurrection,  headed  by  the  Archbishop  of 
York,  differ  in  character  and  in  personnel  from  the  rebellion 
headed  by  Percy? 

8.  What  estimate  of  himself  as  a  wit-producer  does  Falstaff 
utter?  Into  what  state  do  his  money  affairs  seem  to  be  falling? 
Explain  the  secular  use  to  which  St.  Paul's  Church  was  put. 

9.  For  what  is  the  Lord  Chief  Justice  noted?  How  is  the  in- 
cident here  casually  alluded  to  used  elsewhere  in  the  play? 

10.  How  long  does  Sir  John  play  upon  his  assumption  of 
deafness?     What  reputation  did  he  acquire  from  Shrewsbury? 

11.  Justify  his  humorous  contentions  concerning  his  youth. 

12.  What  effort  had  the  King  made  to  separate  Falstaff  and 
Prince  Hal? 

13.  How  does  Falstaff  employ  his  mind  when  he  has  no 
audience  ? 

184 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Questions 

14.  What  principles  does  Lord  Bardolph  lay  down  (Sc.  iii.) 
that  should  check  the  enterprise?  Is  Northumberland  trusted? 
How  is  the  fickleness  of  public  opinion  shown? 


ACT  SECOND. 

15.  Does  Hostess  Quickly's  defense  of  herself  for  bringing  suit 
against  Falstaff  reveal  a  fondness  for  him,  and  so  an  excuse  for 
her  harshness  ? 

16.  Explain  the  method  by  which  Hostess  Quickly's  mind 
works.  In  ^his  does  she  resemble  the  Nurse  in  Romeo  and 
Juliet  ? 

17.  How  does  Falstaff  escape  from  the  threatened  arrest? 

18.  How  is  the  recruitmg  scene  of  Act  HI.  foreshadowed? 

19.  What  compunctions  (Sc.  ii.)  does  the  Prince  feel  for  keep- 
ing bad  company?  Why  would  he  show  no  sadness  over  his 
father's  sickness  ? 

20.  What  was  Shakespeare's  intention  in  introducing  the  Page 
into  the  play? 

21.  What  were  the  contents  of  Falstaff 's  letter  to  the  Prince? 
Does  Falstaff  show  jealousy  of  the  Prince's  friendship  with 
Poins?  From  what  stratum  of  society  did  Poins  spring?  What 
is  argued  from  the  fact  that  he  is  the  only  one  to  whom  the  Prince 
confides  the  serious  side  of  his  nature? 

22.  What  new  details  does  Lady  Percy  in  Sc.  iii.  add  to  the 
portrait  of  Hotspur?  What  is  the  dramatic  purpose  of  her  speech 
as  regards  Northumberland?  What  revelation  of  herself  is  here 
effected  ? 

23.  Did  the  Prince  ever  show  a  genuine  regard  for  Sir  John? 
What  effect  had  his  jest  with  the  apple-johns  upon  Falstaff'? 

24.  Comment  upon  the  realism  of  Shakespeare  as  seen  in  his 
characterization  of  Doll  Tearsheet.  Does  she  possess  even  t!:e 
mitigating  quality  of  humour? 

25.  What  qualities  are  shown  in  Pistol  that  are  lacking  in  the 
composition  of  the  roisterers? 

26.  Did  Doll  recognize  the  Prince  and  Poins  in  their  dis- 
guises? 

27.  What  is  the  effect  of  Falstaff 's  words,  /  am  old,  I  am  old? 

28.  May  we  regard  Sc.  iv.  as  marking  a  culminating  point  in 
the  Prince's  wild  career?  To  show  this  dramatically  is  not  the 
uncompromising  vulgarity  of  the  tavern  scene  necessary?     Give 

185 


Questions  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

a  psychological  analysis  of  the  Prince  during  this  scene.     Is  he 
elsewhere  in  the  play  seen  with  his  tavern  companions? 

29.  What  is  foreshadowed  in  the  Prince's  words :  Falstaff,  good 
night? 

ACT  THIRD. 

30.  What  is  the  tenour  of  the  King's  soliloquy  at  the  opening 
of  the  Act?  How  does  the  contrast  presented  in  this  speech 
conform  to  the  general  scheme  of  the  play  in  presenting  con- 
trasts ? 

31.  Is  King  Henry  conscious  of  any  power  behind  the  shows 
of  things,  like  Nemesis,  that  causes  him  uneasiness  of  spirit ;  or 
does  he  see  only  the  bare  fact  of  insubordination  among  his 
nobles?  What  is  implied  by  his  occasional  reference  to  a  pro- 
jected crusade? 

32.  Describe  the  mental  traits  of  Shallow  and  of  Silence. 

S3.  How  does  Bardolph  comport  himself  away  from  the  peo- 
ple who  know  him? 

34.  Are  Falstaff's  recruits  to  be  regarded  as  typical  of  English 
soldiers  of  any  period,  or  are  they  invented  to  serve  as  butts  for 
Falstaff's  wit? 

35.  From  the  reminiscences  of  Falstaff  and  Shallow  construct 
a  connected  account  of  Falstaff's  life. 

36.  Comment  on  his  attitude  towards  Shallow  and  Silence. 
From  his  closing  description  of  Shallow  describe  the  allusive 
powers  of  Sir  John's  mind. 

ACT  FOURTH. 

37.  What  is  heard  of  Northumberland  at  the  opening  of  the  Act. 

38.  State  the  purpose  of  Westmoreland  in  visiting  the  rebellious 
nobles.  Explain  the  craft  he  employs  in  avoiding  the  issues  they 
present. 

39.  What  is  Mowbray's  position  both  before  and  after  the  with- 
drawal of  Northumberland  with  the  conditions  of  peace?  What 
is  that  of  the  Archbishop  of  York? 

40.  In  what  way  does  Lancaster  continue  the  tone  of  West- 
moreland in  treating?  Is  there  any  mitigation  of  the  deception 
that  he  played? 

41.  Does  the  sudden  illness  of  Mowbray  foreshadow  the  catas- 
trophe? Has  Shakespeare  often  presented  so  sharp  a  turn  in 
the  action  of  his  plays  ? 

186 


KING  HENRY  IV.  Questions 

42.  Was  the  act  of  Lancaster  and  Westmoreland  performed  at 
Henry's  suggestion?  Did  it  meet  with  his  approval  or  disap- 
proval? Where  does  the  dramatist  look  to  find  indignant  dis- 
approval? Is  such  an  act  disdained  by  kings  in  general  when  it  is 
accomplished  successfully? 

43.  Explain  the  humour  of  Falstaff's  words  (Sc.  iii.),  let  it  be 
booked  zvith  the  rest  of  this  day's  deeds. 

44.  Compare  the  way  in  which  Falstaff  fared  at  the  hands  of 
Lancaster  with  a  similar  situation  in  the  First  Part,  V.  iv.,  where 
Prince  Hal  stands  in  place  of  Lancaster.  Is  there  a  feeling  that 
the  shadows  are  beginning  to  fall  around  the  old  knight? 

45.  What  is  the  purport  of  the  King's  advice  to  Thomas  of 
Clarence?     Is  it  consonant  with  the  King's  character? 

46.  What  is  the  effect  upon  the  King  of  the  news  from  the 
field  of  battle? 

47.  What  recommendations  for  the  guidance  of  his  future 
reign  does  the  King  give  to  the  Prince? 

48.  What  is  the  Prince's  excuse  for  removing  the  crown? 
Does  his  apostrophe  to  the  crown  bear  out  the  truth  of  his 
excuse? 

49.  Is  the  King  convinced  of  the  genuineness  of  the  Prince's 
professions,  or  pleased  with  the  ability  he  shows  in  his  own  de- 
fence ? 

50.  What  is  the  symbolism  implied  in  the  place  where  the  King 
dies?    How  searching  is  it  in  its  application? 

ACT  FIFTH. 

51.  What  is  the  episodic  value  of  Sc.  i.? 

52.  What  apprehensions  of  the  future  does  the  Lord  Chief 
Justice  express?  How  do  Warwick  and  the  other  members  of 
the  royal  household  deepen  the  impression  of  impending  dis- 
asters? 

53.  Why  was  the  Lord  Chief  Justice  chosen  as  the  character  to 
lead  out  King  Henry  V.  to  a  declaration  of  his  changed  pur- 
poses in  life? 

54.  Where  in  i  Henry  IV.  was  this  scene  foreshadowed? 

55.  Is  this  change  in  the  Prince  convincing?  Is  it  a  change  in 
character  or  in  conduct? 

56.  How  does  Sc.  iii.  complete  the  characterization  of  Silence? 
How  is  he  differentiated  from  Shallow?  What  reserved  compli- 
ment does  he  pay  Falstaff?     How  does  he  end  his  dramatic  life? 

187 


Questions 

57.  How  is  the  news  of  the  King's  death  and  Prince  Hal's 
elevation  brought?  What  is  the  emotional  effect  of  the  conclu- 
ding part  of  Sc.  iii.  ?  Is  Falstaff's  discomfiture  foreshadowed  in 
any  part  of  this  Scene? 

58.  What  dramatic  purpose  does  Sc.  iv.  serve? 

59.  Does  one  look  with  approval  or  disapproval  on  the  arrest 
of  Mrs.  Quickly  and  Doll?  State  the  humorous  effect  of  Mrs. 
Quickly's  words,  O  God,  that  right  should  thus  overcome  anight! 
considered  as  a  comment  upon  the  whole  play. 

60.  When  does  one  first  know  that  Falstaff  has  borrowed  his 
thousand  pounds? 

61.  How  do  Falstaff  and  his  party  appear  to  witness  the  King's 
procession?     What  self-deception  does  the  knight  indulge  in? 

62.  What  is  the  first  stroke  of  catastrophe  that  falls  upon  him? 

63.  Do  you  approve  or  disapprove  of  the  King's  treatment  of 
Sir  John? 

64.  How  does  Falstaff  show  that  he  has  lost  his  highest  stake? 
Does  he  really  believe  that  he  will  be  sent  for  in  private? 


65.  How  does  the  Second  Part  of  this  play  compare  in  dramatic 
interest  with  theTirst  Part?  Is  there  felt  a  loss  in  the  absence 
of  such  interest  as  Hotspur  inspires? 

66.  Summarize  the  traits  of  Henry.  Wherein  was  he  strong? 
What  were  his  limitations? 

67.  Give  your  estimate  of  the  character  of  Prince  Hal.  How 
does  he  serve  as  a  link-person  in  producing  coherency  of  action? 

68.  What  one  interest  always  brought  him  to  himself  and 
secured  his  best  endeavours?  In  what  way  may  this  play  be 
taken  as  prologue  to  Henry  V.  ? 

69.  Discuss  the  ethical  anomaly  of  Falstaff  as  an  artistic  cre- 
ation. 

70.  A  critic  has  said :  "  To  Shakespeare,  good  men  and  bad 
are  alike  parts  of  the  order  of  Nature,  to  be  understood  and  in- 
terpreted with  perfect  impartialit^^  He  gives  a  diagnosis  of  the 
case,  not  a  judgement  sentencing  them  to  heaven  or  hell.  His 
characters  prosper  or  suffer,  not  in  proportion  to  their  merits,  but 
as  good  and  bad  fortune  decides  or  as  may  be  most  dramatically 
effective."  Considering  this  as  a  principle  illustrated  by  the  play 
under  consideration,  what  attitude  do  you  take  as  to  the  question 
of  the  relations  of  art  and  morality? 


UNIVERSITY    OF    CALIFORNIA-LOS    ANGELES 


L  009  978  338  3 


